


One Hundred Sleepless Nights

by escape2020



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben in Flannel, Breeding Kink, Controlling Ben Solo, Cunnilingus, Domestic Bliss, Dystopia, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feeding Kink, Fluff and Smut, Fuck Or Die, Gaslighting, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Polite Ben Solo, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slow Burn, Smut, Stockholm Syndrome, but not really, just a bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escape2020/pseuds/escape2020
Summary: For the past several months, civil rights have been stripped away from American citizens, especially women. You decide that it's finally time to GTFO and seek asylum in Canada. Less then two hours from the border, a snow storm forces you to stop driving for the night. Unfortunately, while you're warming up in a bar, an executive order restricts international travel for unmarried women. You also find that the little Vermont town you stopped in has no vacancy in its few motels. Luckily, a nice man named Ben has offered you a place to stay for the night while you sort out your plans for leaving the country.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader, Ben Solo/Reader, Ben Solo/You
Comments: 46
Kudos: 147





	1. No funny business

The sites of northeastern Vermont might have been beautiful around this time of year had you not been driving for hours through freezing rain. It had also been dark out for some time now, and these roads were never lit with street lamps. Just thirty minutes ago you’d crossed from New Hampshire into Vermont, and you still had quite a ways to go until reaching your destination in Canada, but having just seen the third moose warning sign in the past hour, you figured it was time to stop for the night. You’d never seen a moose in real life, but people had told you that they were more likely to be the ones walking away from a car crash, not you.

The next exit had signs for Lyndonville, Vermont - probably some podunk little town - you’d never heard of it before. Turning off the highway, your suspicions were confirmed. Lot’s of forest, lots of fields, too many churches, and a handful of motels. You slowed down to look for somewhere to sleep for the night. All of these motels had rooms opening up directly to the street, which was not really the safest option for you as a woman traveling alone, but it would have to do.

Some places wouldn’t even rent a room to a single woman these days; they knew it would attract attention and trouble. Since the new administration had taken office a few months ago, tensions had been steadily rising. It didn’t seem possible for anyone to be more conservative than the previous president, but the shifting of the overton window had allowed people to accept him and his policies relatively easily, much to your dismay.

It seemed that every week another basic human right was being stripped away. First, it was access to abortions. Then, they took away your right to own property. The last straw was when they took away your right to vote, just last week. It was only a matter of time before your driver’s license would be revoked, so you finally admitted to yourself that it was time to get out. Luckily, your cousin Rose had a place up in Quebec, and she said you could stay in the spare room while you applied for political asylum and permanent citizenship. This pitstop in Lyndonville was an unfortunate necessity - you’d just keep your head down and be out in the morning and settled at Rose’s by the afternoon. 

After slowly circling the little downtown for a few minutes, you spotted a dingy looking motel with a “Vacancy” sign lit up in red halogens. You parked, grabbed your duffel out of the trunk, and headed in to the reception to get your room. When you walked in, a short, balding man was stood at the desk, watching some soap opera on a tiny television. He looked up when you came in, jangling the bells that hung on the door. 

His expression was blank, and he seemed unassuming, but you were still on edge. 

“Room for one please, just for tonight,” you said to him as you dug through the bag for your wallet. 

You pulled out your debit card and handed it to him, but he just stared without taking it.

“Cash only.”

Okay...you only had about $10 or $12 cash on you right now - probably not the smartest thing in hindsight.

“Is there an ATM around here?” you asked, eyes scanning the lobby.

“The bar next door has one,” the man said, turning away to focus on his soap opera once more.

You stood still for another few seconds until you realized that you had been “dismissed”. Refraining from rolling your eyes, you threw your duffel over your shoulder and walked back out into the freezing rain.

The bar next door was an absolute dive. Dim and dirty with only Budwiser, Heinekein, and various cheap liquors on the menu. In the far corner was a pool table where a few men were playing and drinking their beers. No one looked directly at you, but you could feel all of the side glances and sensed that you were not welcome. In such a small town, it was immediately apparent that you were not from around here.

You did your best to shrug off the unwelcoming atmosphere and beelined for the ATM. Just as you were pulling out your wallet, the bartender called out to you in a gruff voice, “Customers only.”

You closed your eyes in frustration, then resigned yourself. A drink actually sounds nice after a long day of driving, and maybe it would take away the chill in your bones brought on by the damp air.

You sidled up to an empty stool at the bar, making sure to distance yourself from the man who was apparently passed out on the counter. With your duffel securely wedged between your knees and the bar, you ordered a beer, whatever they had on tap.

The bartender slid it across the bar top to you, allowing about a quarter of the contents to slosh out. He turned away and started talking to someone else before you could ask for some napkins. Oh well, you’d be out of this shitty little town in a few hours - you could handle a sticky glass for one night. 

You were surprised to find it was a strong IPA. This place didn’t seem like one to offer craft beer, but it was Vermont after all; local beer was probably cheaper for them. There was an old, boxy TV mounted over the corner of the bar playing Fox News. A sleazy looking man with too much fake tan was yelling about the new government regulations, but at least it was somewhat entertaining, like watching a car crash.

Before you knew it, you were ordering another beer. You weren’t much of a drinker, but the past few months had been so stressful, and you were so close to leaving it all behind, so a bit of early celebration couldn’t hurt.

As you watched the bartender pour your drink, a man came over from the pool table, presumably to get a refill on his as well. You kept your eyes on the TV, but you could sense his eyes on you. The bartender came over with his beer, rather than sliding it across the bar like he had done for you. 

“Hey Ben, you winnin’ that game or what? Doesn’t look too promising from over here,” the barkeep choked out a laugh that turned into a cough. The two of them began bantering about pool and chopping wood or whatever the hell men talk about up here in bumfuck nowhere. You weren’t really listening, but took the opportunity to glance discreetly at the man who had seated himself next to you.

He had shaggy black hair that fell to his shoulders, broad shoulders and chest clad in red flannel (typical), jeans, and muddy work boots. His voice was pleasantly deep, and he didn’t look to be much older than 30 or 35. The conversation between the two men died down and you realized you were staring. Your eyes traveled up to his face to see him looking back at you with a smirk curling the corners of his mouth. Your face reddened as you realized you’d been caught.

“See something you like?” he asked, smirk widening into a smarmy grin.

“Sorry…” you mumbled, bringing your drink back to your mouth and doing your best to shrink away. 

He just chuckled and walked back to the pool table with his drink. Your shoulders relaxed and you returned your attention to the TV. There was some sort of breaking news scrolling across the bottom of the screen. You had to squint to read it, but thankfully the obnoxious man on the screen cut away to another reporter who was reading from a briefing, presumably about the same announcement.

“Just twenty minutes ago, President Snoke declared a travel restriction for citizens. Women may not cross international borders without being chaperoned by their husbands. Marriage licenses are now required travel documents, along with a valid U.S. passport. You are also reminded that marriages without children were determined to be illegitimate by the U.S. Supreme Court last month. Unmarried women will not be permitted to cross the border at all. These new guidelines will ensure that our women are safe and protected during their travels.”

Fuck.

You casually put your left hand into your pocket so that people wouldn’t see that it didn’t have a wedding band, but people were already staring. Furtively glancing around the room, you realized that you were the only woman in the bar. With Lyndonville only located about ninety minutes from the Canadian border, it was probably obvious that you were trying to cross. 

Without another word, you threw your remaining cash on the bar and went to the ATM to draw some more. What you really wanted to do was get the fuck out of this country, but the freezing rain had turned into a heavy snow since you’d come into the bar, and you knew you couldn’t drive in this weather in the middle of the night. 

You withdrew $100 and trudged through the quickly accumulating snow drifts to the motel next door. You threw $60 onto the front desk where the same man as earlier was  _ still _ watching soap operas.

“Room for one, just tonight.” Pausing for a second, “...please.”

The man didn’t look up or reach for your money.

“Sorry doll, we’re full up now.”

You stared blankly. As far as you could tell, this was the only place with rooms available in town. Every other place you had scoped out after driving into town had glaring “No Vacancy” signs in front.

Alright, time to come up with a new plan. You put the cash back into your wallet and headed back to the bar. At least it was warm and relatively dry, you could figure out your next moves there. No more beer though - maybe a hot coffee would help you think things through.

Back in the bar, you settled into the same seat you had vacated a few minutes prior and waved the bartender over.

“Any chance you can put on a pot of coffee for me? I’ve gotta get this chill out of my bones.”

He just nodded once and pulled an old coffee pot out from under the back counter. While he started on that, you pulled out your phone to start searching the maps for the next town over. Maybe there was somewhere to stay not too far from Lyndonville. But you couldn’t just drive aimlessly in a storm, especially with the exits so far apart here, you’d run out of gas before finding somewhere to stay.

No service anyway, Google Maps refused to load. Groaning, you rested your head in your palm and absently rubbed your temples.

“ ‘Scuse me miss, you okay?” a smooth, deep voice asked. You already knew who it was: red flannel guy.

You lifted your head back up to look at him. He seemed genuinely concerned, or at least not making fun of you. Fuck it.

“I don’t have anywhere to stay tonight. I’m just passing through, didn’t think I’d have to sleep in my car, but it’s looking more and more like that’s the only option.”

The barkeep came back with a steaming cup of coffee for you as flannel guy studied your face. You took a sip, careful not to burn your tongue. 

“I don’t live too far from here,” he started.

You took another sip and watched him, waiting for him to go on. He looked down and ran his fingers through his hair.

“You can stay for the night if you need, no funny business or nothin’. You’ll freeze your ass off if you sleep in your car, and I can’t let that happen to a lady.” He held the back of his neck and looked sheepishly at you.

It  _ would _ be nice to wake up with all of your fingers and toes intact in the morning. 

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer? I read somewhere that they can be real charming, they lure you in that way. I don’t even know your name.” You squinted at him over the rim of your coffee mug. But the thought of sleeping in a bed and not the back seat of your car sounded  _ very _ tempting as you listened to the snow whipping against the building outside.

“So you think I’m charming, huh?” He grinned wide, flashing his teeth. “Name’s Ben.” He reached out one huge hand to shake yours. Tentatively, you extended your hand.

“Alright...as long as it’s not too much trouble,” you said, then gave him your name.

“No trouble at all. But we should probably get out of here now, that storm is really picking up. I’ve got chains on my truck’s tires, but we’ll only get so far if they close the mountain roads.”

You nodded, it was getting pretty nasty out there.

“This yours?” Ben asked, nudging your duffel bag with the toe of his boot.

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” you said, reaching for it. But Ben was faster, slinging it over his shoulder.

You opened your mouth to protest that you were perfectly capable of lugging your own things, but he was already walking towards the door. 

“Come on, I’m parked out back.”


	2. Lions, tigers, and bears - oh my!

Ben’s place was a little backwoods cabin, set back far from the road. Upon arriving, he jumped out to grab your duffel from the bed of the truck, once again giving you no opportunity to protest and do it for yourself. 

“Watch your step, I salted the stairs this morning, but it looks pretty slick,” Ben warned, walking ahead of you to check the traction. 

“Welcome to my humble abode.” He held the door open and gestured for you to enter.

The interior looked exactly how you expected a bachelor living in the woods would “decorate”, if you could even call it that. There was little in the way of art on the walls; the furniture was simple, utilitarian. But there were a few touches of warmth, like the knit blanket draped over the back of his couch, and the half-burnt pillar candles arranged next to a well-worn recliner.

“There’s not much to see, but let me show you around,” he said, nudging you inside with a light touch to your shoulder. 

“Living room, of course, kitchen around the corner,” he pointed to your left, “bathroom is this way,” he said, as he led you down a hallway. 

“And this is the bedroom. Sorry it’s not too neat, I wasn’t expecting guests today.” He looked self conscious as he ran a hand through his hair. Maybe he had a tic or something.

The bed was unmade, and there were a few stray socks that hadn’t quite made it into the hamper, but it didn’t look dirty by any stretch of the imagination.

“It’s perfect, thank you, but really, I can sleep on the couch. I feel bad for putting you out like this.” 

You looked up at Ben, but he just shrugged and shook his head to insist that you take his room. Well, you would only refuse a bed so many times, so you acquiesced and he set your duffel on top of the bureau. You walked over to the bed to take a seat, not sure what more to say. Ben tilted his head and looked at you strangely.

“You’re shivering.” 

Apparently, trudging between the motel and bar through snow and sleet had been enough to nearly soak through your clothes, but it hadn’t yet registered; your mind had been racing since hearing the news announcement a short while ago. You brought a hand in front of your face to see it tremoring.

“Why don’t you take a hot shower? I’ll go get you a towel.” Ben was gone before you could respond. Not that you would have protested - a shower was certainly in order.

He returned a moment later to set the towel next to your duffel bag.

“I’ll be in the living room, just holler if you need anything.”

***********

After a glorious shower that helped to restore circulation to all of your extremities, you rifled through your bag for some night clothes. You had anticipated crossing the border in the early hours of the morning though, having driven through the night. All you had to wear was another pair of jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt. As you stood wrapped in your towel, contemplating sleeping in skinny jeans, you heard a soft knock on the bedroom door.

“Hey, I’m heating up the kettle for some tea, would you like some too?” 

Ben was being so hospitable, maybe he could afford you one last favor. You opened the door a few inches to see him staring at his feet as he waited for your response. His eyes snapped up to meet yours when he heard the door open. His gaze quickly flicked up and down your body, then settled back on your face. He awkwardly cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

“Did you want to see the tea selection? I don’t have much, but I could bring it by.” He started to reach up for his hair again, but stopped himself halfway and folded his arms across his chest instead. You couldn’t help a small smile from forming, he was such an attentive host.

“Thank you Ben, but I was actually going to see if I could trouble you for some warm clothes to sleep in. I didn’t plan on this detour.”

“Oh, sure, I have some things in the bureau, if I could just -” he gestured into the bedroom. You stepped aside to let him in. He set a flannel, a pair of sweatpants, and thick wool socks on the bed.

“Come on out after if you’d like some hot tea,” he said as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

When he was gone, you laid everything out on the bed. It certainly looked warmer and cozier than your paltry selection. You pulled the flannel over your head first - it fell midway down your thighs. You tried the socks on next, clearly meant for a large man - they reached up to your knees. A glance at the sweatpants told you that you’d be swimming in them. Ben looked to be over six feet, and well built, so you weren’t surprised. You decided to forgo the pants for now in favor of mobility and not falling on your face when you inevitably tripped over the long legs. After a quick finger comb, you ventured out into the living room for that hot drink.

Ben was not sitting on the couch like you’d expected him to be. You glanced the steaming kettle sitting on the wood stove, but the smell of something cooking in butter led you to the kitchen instead. Ben was standing in front of the stove, his shoulders slightly hunched from using a space meant for a smaller person. 

Your feet slid silently on the wood in their socks, but your weight creaked a floorboard and Ben looked over his shoulder to see you standing in the middle of the kitchen, dressed in his clothes like you lived there. It looked like he was about to smile, but he turned back to face the stove.

“Figured you might be hungry, so I made us some grilled cheeses. I can always eat, so I figured I’d have a little midnight snack with you.” 

“Sounds amazing,” you said truthfully. It would be rude to refuse.

“Why don’t you have a seat? It’ll be ready in a minute.” He waved with the spatula in the direction of the kitchen table. You looked to see two steaming mugs and a small tray of assorted tea bags. 

**********

The two of you sat and sipped tea in silence after you finished eating. It probably wasn’t hard to make bread and cheese taste good, but damn, he must have been a chef in another life. Best fucking sandwich you’d ever eaten.

“So, have you thought about how you’ll cross the border now?” Ben looked into his mug as he spoke.

You stared at him for a moment, stunned. You hadn’t told him of your plans, but it probably didn’t take a genius to figure it out, what with everything going on in the country these days. There was no point in putting on a song and dance to convince him otherwise.

“...Not exactly,” you took another drink to stall. “I mean, I could probably sneak across...on foot?” You looked up to see Ben’s brows raised in surprise.

“In the middle of the winter? They’ve got a lot of cops working border patrol these days, not to mention all the animals.” He seemed genuinely concerned.

“Lions, tigers, and bears, huh?” You tried to joke, but you knew he was right.

“No tigers or bears, but we have mountain lions in these parts. It’s not safe.” 

The two of you sat in silence for another minute, probably sharing the same thought:  _ you’re fucked _ .

At least you’d had a go of it, made an attempt to get out. You would have that to hold onto as your world closed in on you, becoming smaller and more suffocating by the day.

Ben cleared his throat, breaking you from your spiraling.

“I could help.” 

You looked up to study his face, searching for the lie. Why would this man, a virtual stranger, want to help you break the law? What could he possibly gain?

“Why?”

Ben bobbed the tea bag up and down in his mug a few times before answering.

“Work has been tough to come by in Lyndonville these days, but I’ve got a buddy up north, says I could do some logging for him. He’s got a baby on the way, so he needs the extra help.”

“What about the paperwork? I don’t need just a man with me, I need a  _ husband. _ And I am  _ not _ marrying someone I met two hours ago.” You had to be upfront about it, didn’t want him getting any ideas.

“Oh - no! I wasn’t sayin’...” Ben stumbled over his words, backpedaling as best as he could. “I know a guy, he helps people like you, real professional. He can draw up some papers, looks just like the real deal. Throw a pillow under your shirt, and we could cross the border, no trouble at all.” He mimed a round belly at the mention of a pillow.

It was actually a pretty solid plan. You were already so close to the border, it would probably be a simple operation.

“How soon could this guy get the paperwork ready?”

“I’ll have to give him a call, but he could probably be here in the next day or two. He’s gotta drive over from Burlington.” He already seemed livelier at the prospect of your agreement.

You nodded to yourself, contemplating your other options, which were not very numerous, or very promising. Take your chances with the mountain lions? Or spend another day eating Ben’s grilled cheese? 

“Alright. Let’s do it.”


	3. It has to be convincing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter today in honor of Adam's birthday. I'm sure he would hate it lol.

The smell of eggs and bacon permeated the air, waking you the next morning. You had slept surprisingly well. You weren’t usually able to sleep in new places, let alone a stranger’s house. 

The food smelled delicious, but you burrowed deeper under the covers and into Ben’s flannel sheets. There was nowhere for you to be, not until that guy, Ben’s friend from Burlington, could drive over to help you forge a marriage. You didn’t want to be rude though, he was probably cooking for you - best not to let the food get cold.

The cold wood floor made you wince as you left the cocoon of blankets. Ben’s socks had slipped off while you were sleeping, but you quickly pulled them back on, shivering.

Emerging into the kitchen, you saw the table already set for two, and Ben sipping coffee, the morning paper half-obscuring his face.

He put the paper down to get up and tend to the eggs, still frying in their pan, and started a bit when he saw you standing in the doorway. He smiled at your presence, some of the awkwardness from last night already dissolved. 

“Morning, how did you sleep?” he asked.

“Great, thanks, your bed is really comfortable.”

“Not too cold? It gets cold in here at night.” 

“No, no, nice and toasty.” You noticed his shoulders relax down his back when you reassured him of your comfort. This guy should be running a B&B, not chopping down trees for a living.

He turned his back to you so that he could plate breakfast and turn off the stove. 

“How do you take your coffee?” he asked as he poured a mug.

“Black is fine, thanks.” He nodded and set everything down on the table.

You were about to dig in when you realized that you basically _were_ staying at a bed and breakfast - for free. Suddenly you felt guilty. Were you taking advantage of this kind man? 

He noticed your fork frozen in midair, inches above a pile of scrambled eggs. He swallowed his bite and watched your face, waiting for you to speak.

“This is all so generous of you - I should probably just get going after breakfast though. I’ll find a way to cross the border, I don’t want to put you out any longer.”

Ben knit his brows together.

“You’re not putting me out. Like I said, I was going to head up to Canada for work anyway, now I just have a copilot.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He still looked concerned.

“I just don’t feel right about this, you could get in trouble.” You looked down to your lap where your fingers were absently fiddling with your shirt buttons - _Ben’s_ shirt buttons.

He sighed and rested his elbows on the table. “Look, I know you’re going to try crossing the border, with or without me. Knowing that, I can’t in good faith let you go alone. I could never forgive myself if you walked out that door and something happened to you - if _I_ let something happen to you.”

You were still looking down at your hands as he spoke.

“Hey - look at me,” he said, not unkindly.

You lifted your gaze to meet his warm brown eyes. He searched your face, attempting to discern what you were feeling without the aid of words.

“It’s going to be okay. I’ll get you over the border, just trust me. Can you do that?” He asked.

You nodded and sat up straighter in your chair.

“At least let me pay you back for the food, and for sleeping in your bed. I feel like I’m in a hotel or something.” 

Ben grinned, this time a genuine smile. “Why would my wife need to pay me for any of that? What’s mine is yours.” He winked and went back to eating his breakfast.

“Don’t even joke about that!” you warned, but relaxed again and joined him in eating. A small smile pulled at the corners of your mouth.

After you both finished eating, you jumped up to wash the dishes before Ben could do it. It wasn’t much, but you had to find some way to show your gratitude. 

“I have to head into town for a few things, I’ll only be gone a couple hours. Make yourself at home while I’m gone.” Ben said, pulling on a heavy coat and fur-lined hat. 

“Sure, see you later.” 

**********

There wasn’t much to do while Ben was gone. His house was small and didn’t even have a TV. There were a few well-worn books stacked next to his recliner, but nothing you were really interested in. He had two mystery novels and a birding book - _boring_. 

It was getting cold though, and you weren’t sure how to work his wood stove. Maybe a hot bath would do the trick. You could just soak and relax while Ben was out.

You gathered the candles you’d spotted earlier in the living room and set them up in the bathroom. You didn’t expect him to have any bubble bath or bath salts, considering the everything-in-one soap you’d found in his shower last night. To your surprise though, there was a bottle of rose-scented bath oil under the vanity. Maybe from an ex? Did he have a girlfriend?

You shrugged. It didn’t matter, you would probably never see him again after this whole ordeal was over, if everything went to plan.

You settled into the tub, sinking down to your chin. Everything in Ben’s house seemed too small for him, except for this tub. It must be custom, because you had plenty of room to spare in it. The steam, low lighting, and rose scent soon had you dozing off. Why did fleeing the country feel like a long awaited vacation?

The slamming of the front door woke you from your nap. Ben was calling your name, but you couldn’t make out the rest of what he was saying. The water had gone cool, so he must have been out for a while. You sat up in the tub and reached for the towel you had left next to it. 

After a few seconds of blindly groping at the floor, you leaned over the edge of the tub. No towel. _Shit_.

You could hear Ben walking into each room, presumably looking for you.

“In here Ben!” you called out from the bathroom. 

The thud of his boots stopped outside of the door.

“Uh, could you do me a little favor? Please?” You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. How many favors would you extract from him in the short time that you would know him?

“Sure, what do you need?” came his reply.

“I took a bath...I guess I’m _still_ taking a bath...and I forgot to bring a towel.” 

“Okay, one sec, there’s some clean ones in the dryer, I’ll be right back.”

Whoever _actually_ married Ben was going to be one lucky woman. No man you’d ever been with had been this attentive. But then again, you weren’t _with_ Ben, so you couldn’t fairly compare the two. He was just a great host.

A soft knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts. A moment later, he opened the door just wide enough to pass the towel through. Unfortunately, the bath tub was set into the wall opposite of the door - there was no way you could reach the towel without getting out.

“Do you think you could, uh...bring it to me? I’m going to get water all over your floor if I get out.”

There was a pause from Ben.

“Okay.”

He pushed the door open wider and walked towards you, keeping his gaze on the floor, even shielding his eyes with one hand. When he reached the tub, he held the towel out at arm’s length. From his height though, it was still well out of your reach.

“Ben?”  
“Hm?”

“Down here.”

He dropped his hand and flicked his eyes down to see your hand reaching for the towel, coming short by about a foot. His eyes traveled lower and his cheeks turned a deep pink. You followed his line of sight and saw that at the end of your reaching arm, your breast was sitting just above the surface of the water. 

Ben looked away and lowered the towel to your outstretched hand.

“Thanks…” _How mortifying._

Ben just nodded and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You quickly toweled off and got dressed in the bedroom. You still only had one outfit to wear, but it would hold you over until you could get to Canada. Venturing out to the living room, you saw Ben sitting on the couch, flipping through his bird book. He looked up when you entered the room, but quickly looked away.

He stood and walked into the kitchen where there were a few shopping bags set on the table.

“So, I know you won’t be here long, but it seemed like you didn’t have any warm clothes. I picked a few things up so that you wouldn’t freeze up here,” he cleared his throat, “or in Canada.”

You leaned forward to peer into the bags. There were a few sweaters, a warm parka, wool socks, and even a pair of snow boots. He must have spent a couple hundred dollars on all of this, just to make you comfortable for a handful of days. You opened your mouth to thank him, but you couldn’t find the words. 

Instead, you asked him, “How did you know my shoe size?” _Nice. Good choice_. 

His blush returned. “Just checked your shoes, they were sitting by the front door.” 

_Duh, asshole_ , you thought to yourself. _He’s not creepy, you’re just an idiot._

“Oh, of course. Thank you, this is all really thoughtful of you.” He was right, you were ill prepared for the weather this far up north.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you stood there in awkward silence.

He spoke first. “I heard from Will.” 

“Will?”

“He’s the guy from Burlington. The one who’s going to help us out.”

“Oh, right, can he get here soon?”

“Said he can come tomorrow, actually.”

“Wow, that’s great!” you said, maybe a bit too exuberant. Ben gave a tight smile in return.

“We’ve got a few things to get done before he gets here. We have to pack the car, fill the tank, get all of our documents in order, and run through our story.”

“Our story?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah, they stop people at the border a lot these days. We’re going to have to know each other’s information, like birth date and legal name. We also have to discuss the details of our relationship in case they ask.”

“But, we’re not in a relationship…” He was starting to lose you at this point.

“Yes, I know...but we need to make some things up. You’re not the first person to try out this whole scheme to get out of the country. We’re going to have to really sell it.”

You nodded. He was right, of course. How was he so much more prepared than you? You probably would have run into disaster at the border if you hadn’t run into Ben first. 

“Why don’t I put on the kettle and we can run through everything over a hot drink. Do you like cocoa?” He proposed.

“Sounds good, let me just put these bags in the bedroom.”

When you got there, you sat on the bed to calm down. It was really going to happen! And much more smoothly than you could have orchestrated on your own. You pulled a sweater out of one of the bags and pulled it over your head before going back out for cocoa.

Ben served you both then pulled out a bottle of whisky. He poured some into his mug then looked at you with brows raised as he hovered the mouth of the bottle over your mug. 

“Yes, please.” It was barely night, only about 5:00pm, but the sun went down early in the winter, and the sky was full of dark clouds. Good of a time as any to start drinking.

You sat next to each other on the couch, angling your hips slightly so that you could face each other. 

“Okay, why don’t we go over the basics first. Siblings?” He asked. Right down to business.

“No, it’s just me. You?”

“I have an older brother and a younger half-sister.”

You continued for a while, trading facts about your lives until it was as if you’d grown up together. When the cocoa ran out, Ben got up to refresh your drinks. You both switched to whisky, straight up. When he sat back down, you could feel the warmth of his hip resting against yours.

“How should we say we met?” He asked.

“Maybe I met you at Jay Peak when I came up for vacation one year. You know how to ski.”

“Yeah, but you don’t.” He countered. 

“What are they going to do? Make me demonstrate?” Ben burst out laughing, covering his mouth to stop a spray of whisky from hitting you.

“I suppose not. Fine, we met on the top of a mountain. That’s probably not out of the ordinary in Vermont.” He allowed.

Ben got up to add some more logs to the wood stove. Before returning to the couch, he walked over to his coat that was hanging by the front door. He dug around in the pocket until he pulled something out, small enough to be completely concealed in his fist. He sat back down next to you, one of his long legs barely pressing up against yours.

“What do you have there?” You asked playfully, nudging him in the ribs. The whisky was certainly relaxing you.

He looked down at his closed fist, turned it to face up, then slowly uncurled his fingers. Resting on his palm were two gold wedding bands, one much smaller than the other and inlaid with a few stones that looked suspiciously like diamonds.

Your mouth fell open, the smile wiped from your face.

“Are those...real?” You asked. Ben was still looking down at his hand, dark hair draping around his face.

“I got a good deal on them. It has to be convincing.” He replied, his voice just over a whisper.

“A good deal on _diamonds_ , Ben?” _What the fuck?_

“They’re cubic zirconia.”

When you didn’t respond, he hazarded a glance up at your face, to see you completely bewildered.

“It has to be convincing.” He repeated.

You just nodded and set your glass down on the coffee table. 

“Okay, well I think we should probably get some sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.” You said, standing.

Ben stood too, closing his hand into a fist again and stuffing it in his pocket.

“Right. Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”

You walked down the hall to Ben’s bedroom, head swimming with thoughts. He had asked you to trust him, and he seemed to be going above and beyond for you, so you would do your best to do as he asked. Soon, this would all be a distant memory.

After you shut the bedroom door behind you, you decided to sort through the clothes that Ben had gotten you earlier in the day. A pair of the wool socks would be nice for sleeping in, though you did like how high you could pull his socks up your legs.

You set everything out on the bed, one item at a time so that you could fold them neatly. At the bottom of one of the bags was what looked like a white sweater. When you reached for it, you could immediately tell it was cashmere. Pulling it out revealed the sweater to be a dress. It had a wide neck that would sit off the shoulder and looked like it would fall just above your knees. You peered back into the bag that you’d pulled the dress from. Sitting in the bottom was a pair of camel-colored suede boots. 

Why would he pick these things out? They weren’t exactly weather appropriate. You stared at the clothes in confusion for a minute before you realized what it was for.

_It has to be convincing._


	4. With this ring

In the morning, you woke up with a strange mix of dread and excitement. Soon, probably by the afternoon, you would be on your way to the Canadian border with Ben. There was the chance that your fraudulent marriage wouldn’t hold up with the border patrol officers, but you trusted Ben’s contact to be a good one, and they would be none the wiser. He had proven himself to be thorough in his execution of this ruse. You rolled out of bed and went to get ready for the day. Ben was probably expecting you to wear the sweater dress, so you brought it with you into the bathroom before starting the shower.

You were pleased and a bit surprised to see that it fit you like a glove. Men usually weren’t good at shopping for women, but Ben had apparently gotten lucky. The matching shoes fit just as well, of course. You cringed to yourself, recalling the way you had badgered him about knowing your shoe size. This was the nicest, most selfless thing anyone had ever done for you. Was it so hard to just shut up and be grateful?

The outfit was so beautiful and flattering, you decided to put a little bit of makeup on to finish it off. After a minute of digging around in your duffel bag, you pulled out a tube of mascara and lipstick, which you could also make work as blush in a pinch. When you were finished, you appraised yourself in the mirror. Not bad. 

Coming down the hallway towards the living room, you saw Ben pacing, gaze cast down. You stopped to watch him. He was dressed in a well-tailored black tuxedo. His hair was styled into a cascade of shiny black waves that reached his shoulders. You took a step into the living room and he stopped pacing to look up at you. He flashed a toothy smile, displaying the dimples on either cheek.

“My beautiful blushing bride.” he said. His words sounded teasing, but his tone didn’t. You felt your cheeks heat in response to the compliment.

“You clean up quite well too, for a country boy.” You quipped back.

You walked up to Ben, stopping a foot away, and reached up to straighten his bowtie. Lifting your head, you caught him looking down at you. A serious expression had replaced his smile. Your breath caught at the sudden intimacy, but a loud knock on the door broke the spell. Will must be here already.

Ben answered the door to see a man standing there wearing a blazer and holding a leather briefcase at his side. His hair was black, streaked with grey and a pair of tortoiseshell glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. Ben shook his hand and ushered him inside. Snowflakes rushed inside as Ben pulled the door shut. It was snowing lightly but steadily.

“Thanks for doing this Will.” He said, leading him towards you. He met your eyes and held out a hand, gesturing in your direction. “Here she is, my fiance.” His lips pulled into a tight smile, much different from the one he’d had moments ago.

You reached across the space to shake Will’s hand as well, introducing yourself.

“Alright kids, let’s get down to business. I’m going to have you both sign a few papers, we’ll run through a brief ceremony, and then we’ll be all done here.” He said to you both.

Will walked into the kitchen, set his briefcase on the table, and opened it up to pull out a few official-looking forms.

“I’ve put red X’s next to all the places that you need to sign.” Will said, handing a pen to Ben.

Ben accepted it and went to work signing everything quickly, not taking any time to read the words on the page. You looked on uneasily. It wasn’t real, but shouldn’t he understand what he was signing anyway? What if border patrol asked them about it and they didn’t have the answers?

Before you could contemplate further, Ben finished scrawling in all of his signatures. He handed the pen to you wordlessly. 

You hovered it over the first page and started to read but stopped when you heard Will click his tongue. 

“I don’t mean to rush you sweetie, but you’ll have a chance to read through all of this when we’re done. I have to drive to New Hampshire after this, and I want to beat the storm.” You looked out the window to see that in the short time Will had been there, the snow had picked up noticeably. 

“...Okay, sure.” You conceded, and started filling in your signatures below Bens’. When you were done, you looked back to Will expectantly. 

“Who has the rings?” He asked. Ben reached inside his jacket and pulled them out, handing them over to Will.

“Let’s get started. I understand your engagement has been brief, but I’m sure you will have a long and happy marriage ahead of you. You two stand here today, ready to make a commitment to each other. I have officiated many weddings, and I can tell you my best words of wisdom, which I have borrowed from the Bible. ‘Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord.’ I’ve seen those who live by these words go on to live in marital bliss.” 

You furrowed your brows. Will was laying this on pretty heavy. No one else was going to see this “ceremony”, if it could even be called that. He could drop the act and just get this over with. You wanted to roll your eyes at the Bible quotation, but managed to hold it in.

It seemed his speech was over though. He handed one of the wedding bands over to Ben.

“Ben, take your bride’s hand and repeat after me.”

His huge hand took yours, dwarfing it ridiculously. 

“With this ring,” Will started.

“With this ring,” Ben echoed.

“I thee wed.”

“I thee wed.” 

“And let it be a symbol-”

“And let it be a symbol-”

“Of our eternal binding, body and soul.”

“Of our eternal binding, body and soul.”

“Ben, please place the ring on your bride’s finger.” 

He looked at you, then smoothly slid it onto your finger without hesitation. 

Bill then handed you the other ring. You ran through the same script as Ben, finally reaching out to put Ben’s ring on, hand shaking as you did. He gave you a reassuring smile.

“And now,” Will went on, “by the power vested in me by the state of Vermont, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

Relief flooded your body. It was finally over, and you’d be in Canada by nightfall. 

“You may now kiss the bride.” Will finished. Your stomach dropped. You looked at Ben, waiting for him to correct Will and say a kiss wasn’t necessary. But he never did. 

Instead, he took a half step forward, closing the distance between you. One of his hands came to your lower back and pulled you flush against his body. His other hand went to the side of your neck, tilting it so that you were craning to look up at him. Before you could protest, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. You squirmed a little when his tongue prodded at the seam of your lips, eventually forcing its way through. Your mouth opened, allowing him to deepen the kiss, even as you began to panic. A squeak escaped your chest and he reluctantly pulled away. When he looked down at you, his eyes looked darker, the pupils dilated slightly.

Will clapped Ben on the back in congratulations. Then he organized the papers on the kitchen table, creating a stack of originals and a stack of carbon copies.

“I’ll be keeping the copies, but the originals are for your records. Oh, and one more thing for you before I head out.” He sifted through his briefcase until he pulled out a small, rectangular box. 

“There is a positive pregnancy test in here. You’ll be required to present it at the border along with the forms.” With that, he snapped the clasps shut on the briefcase and crossed the room to the front door. 

“Godspeed to you both.” He said, then he was gone.

“Well that was strange…” you said, standing in the kitchen, not sure what to do with yourself. “And what the _fuck_ , Ben? A little warning before that kiss would have been nice. It wasn’t even necessary in the first place.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He shrugged, holding the back of his neck with one hand. “Didn’t feel right not to.”

You just rolled your eyes in response.

“Whatever, let’s just pack the car and get ready to go. I’m going to go change into something warmer.”

“Why don’t we go grab something to eat first? We should celebrate.”

You checked the clock on the wall. 2:00pm. Apparently you’d slept in. 

“Fine, but just something quick.”

  
  


In town, it felt like everyone you passed was staring. Ben held your hand, lacing his fingers through yours and displaying the wedding bands for them to see. They probably recognized that you were from out of town. It was kind of creepy the way people kept tabs on each other here. A few people nodded at Ben when you entered a diner for lunch. You smiled at them, doing the best to play your part as a newlywed.

By the time you were finished eating, the wind and snow had picked up considerably outside. You shielded your face as the two of you walked back to Ben’s truck. He drove you home in silence.

When you had arrived back at his house, Ben turned off the ignition, but made no move to leave the truck. He looked out the window at the snow whipping through the air and sighed.

“You know we can’t leave tonight, right?” He asked, still looking out the window.

You looked down at your hands in your lap and twisted the wedding band around your finger. Realistically, you knew he was right. But you were anxious to get to Canada, even if the drive was a slow one.

“You’ve got chains on your tires, we could make it.” You said, weakly.

Ben just shook his head and placed one hand over both of yours. “Let’s go inside, my little snow bunny. It’s not safe to drive tonight, and I promised I’d keep you safe.”

He unbuckled both of your seatbelts, then walked around to open your door where you still sat confused and unmoving. Numbly, you let him lead you inside.

  
  


By nightfall, you were getting ready for bed and double-checking that your duffel bag was packed for the morning. You went into the kitchen to get some water and saw Ben covering himself with a blanket on the couch. It was only a loveseat, so his knees were bent in order to fit his whole body on the cushions. The blanket barely covered his curled-up body. You felt a pang of guilt, thinking about how he had been sleeping like this for the past few nights.

“Ben, why don’t you sleep in the bed tonight and I’ll sleep on the couch.”

He sat up at the sound of your voice. His mouth curved into a small smile.

“I could never make my wife sleep on the couch. You should be comfortable.” 

“Good thing I’m not really your wife.”

He paused, then shook his head, still refusing to put you on the couch for a night.

“What if...we could share the bed?” You wrung your hands in front of you, not meeting his eyes. If this was the only way to get him off the couch, you didn’t mind that much. Not for one night anyway.

Ben hesitated, his face unreadable, before he nodded once, and got up from the couch, bringing his too-small blanket with him. You gathered the marriage forms from the kitchen table, as well as the box containing the pregnancy test, and followed Ben to the bedroom. They needed to be packed away before bed so that you didn’t forget them in the morning.

You went into the bathroom to brush your teeth, and when you came back out, Ben was stripped down to his boxers, about to get into bed. You stopped short in the doorway. It didn’t seem possible, but he looked even bigger without his clothes. His skin was pale and marked with scars, but underneath was all muscle. You decided not to comment and just settled into the other side of the bed, wearing one of his flannels that reached halfway down your thighs, still not in possession of pajama pants.

“Oh shit, let me pack those things first.” You said, jumping up to put away the forms and pregnancy test. You opened up the box to make sure it was in there. It was one of the tests that indicated its results with lines, not the kind that said “pregnant” or “not pregnant”. 

One line.

“...Ben?”

“Hm?”

You stared down at the test with wide eyes.

“The test is negative.”

Silence.

“What do you mean, ‘it’s negative’?”

“The pregnancy test is fucking negative, Ben!” You whirled around and held up the evidence for him to see. “This is useless! We won’t be able to cross the border with this.” You began to hyperventilate. 

Ben got out of bed and quickly crossed the room to fold you into his arms.

“Shhh, it’s going to be alright little bunny.” He rubbed soothing circles on your back and kissed the top of your head. “I’ll sort it out in the morning, let’s just get some rest.”

You didn’t respond, and he led you back to bed.

He laid on his side and pulled you against his chest, keeping one arm wrapped tightly around your middle. Tears began to roll down your cheeks as the stress of the past few days began to catch up with you. 

“Hush, I’ll make it all better.” He was talking into your hair and nuzzling the back of your neck. “You have me now, you’ll never be alone again. We’ll work this out.” 

You wanted to correct him, to remind him that he wasn’t really your husband, but the warmth of his body and the tight embrace lulled you to sleep before you had the chance.


	5. The way nature intended

You sighed a deep breath of relief as Ben drove his truck up the ramp leading onto the highway. _Finally_ , you were leaving this godforsaken town, this godforsaken country, and heading to sanctuary. Ben had mentioned in the morning that you would probably have to rent an apartment together for a little while, at least until you could be sure the authorities wouldn’t come after you, but that was alright. He had acted a little strange at times, but you had to admit, without him, you might never have made it this far.

After deliberating in the morning, you’d decided to forge your pregnancy test by drawing in another blue line, then blotting it with some water to make it look authentic. To tell the truth, it didn’t look quite right, but Ben assured you that the border patrol officers probably wouldn’t ask for it, and if they did, they wouldn’t know any better. And with all of your paperwork in order, they had no reason not to let you through.

Pine trees and bare branches, all heaping with fresh snow, rushed by in a blur. Now that you were actually on your way out, possibly to never return again, the tragedy of it all struck. This was the last of your home country you would likely ever see. All of the memories you’d formed over a lifetime were tied to places that would fade from memory over the coming years. The landscape lining the highway began to blur further as tears welled up in your eyes.

Ben glanced at you when he heard you sniffling. He placed one big hand over your two clasped in your lap. His thumb rubbed softly over your bare skin, gliding over each knuckle in turn.

“Hey little bunny, it’s going to be alright. You’ll be sad for a little bit, but it’s for the best.” His voice was low and soothing. You just nodded in response, afraid that if you tried to speak, it would come out as a blubbering mess. He was right anyway - it was time to move on and start fresh, somewhere that would allow life and growth and the chance for a brighter future. Who knows, maybe in an environment like that you might actually _want_ to settle down and start a family. As long as it was a choice you could make freely.

In less than ninety minutes, the truck slowed to a crawl as you joined a long line of cars waiting to cross the border. All along the length of the line, police cars with flashing lights were slowly patrolling through the highway median. Some uniformed men were also walking between cars, sometimes stopping to knock on a window and talk with a car’s occupants. Although it was a sunny, cloudless day, the air felt tight with tension, and anxiety began to creep up your spine. 

Ben knew better than to try entertaining you with conversation as you waited to reach the front of the line. He turned on the radio at a low volume, but it faded into white noise as you stared out the windshield ahead, focusing on nothing in particular, save for your racing pulse.

Over the next two hours, you crawled forward at a snail’s pace. Ben would lurch the truck forward about two car-lengths, then stop for fifteen to twenty minutes, and repeat ad nauseum. After the first thirty minutes, he started turning the car off when you were stopped. It wouldn’t do any good to run out of gas before reaching the border five-hundred feet away.

Another forty-five minutes and you were next in line. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Ben asked, then brought your fingers to his lips to kiss lightly. He was just getting into character. They could already be watching you at this point, and he didn’t want anyone to suspect that your marriage was fraudulent. 

“Yes, I have all the paperwork here.” You leafed through it, making sure everything was accounted for, just like you had done a dozen other times before leaving Ben’s house in the morning. He pulled your hand away by the wrist and set it back down on your knee.

“Take a deep breath. We’ll be across that border in no time. Maybe we can even have dinner with your cousin Rose tonight, and we’ll all have a good laugh about this. She won’t believe how neurotic you were.”

Ben laughed goodnaturedly, but you frowned and furrowed your brows. Were you being neurotic? Everyone in the line ahead of you had moved through the border with no issues, so why shouldn’t you too? You shrugged it off. Ben was probably right, it would be a funny joke by the evening.

You felt the car rumble back to life as Ben put the keys back in the ignition and pulled the truck forward, right up to the checkpoint. He put it in park and rolled down the window as a border patrol officer strolled up to the door. You noticed the glock holstered on his hip and dug your fingernails into your palms to stifle a reaction.

The man rested his forearm on the window sill and leaned in to get a look at you before pulling back slightly to look at a computer tablet in his hand. 

“Names?” he asked without looking up.

“Mr. and Mrs. Ben Solo,” Ben answered, handing over his driver’s license at the same time. The officer began tapping Ben’s and your information into his tablet. 

“I’m going to need your passports, proof of residence, marriage license, and ultrasound images.” 

Your mouth went dry. You’d organized and accounted for every form that you would need to present, but this was the first you were hearing about ultrasound images. You handed the papers you _did_ have over to Ben, giving him a quick, frantic look when he turned his head to look at you. He looked calm, completely unflustered.

“We were unaware that we would need to bring our ultrasound pictures, but we have the positive pregnancy test,” Ben said as he handed everything over to the officer. That caused him to finally flick his eyes up from his tablet.

“Sir, how far along is your wife?”

“She’s just about eight weeks.”

He nodded. “It is a bit early for an ultrasound, but luckily we have a nurse inside who can help you settle up. We installed a small clinic after the executive order was signed last week.” The man gestured to the building behind him, an ugly beige brick structure that said “United States Border Inspection Station” in black lettering. “Why don’t you come inside.” It wasn’t a question.

At this point, you couldn’t hold it together anymore, and your composure began to crack at the seams. “Ben?” Your voice was spiking with an oncoming panic attack. When you started to hyperventilate, he once again brought your hand to his lips, but kissed it firmly this time before turning back to face the officer.

“Can’t you see you’re causing my wife to stress? She has gentle nerves, _dammit_ , the baby could get hurt and it will be _your_ fault.” Ben spoke with a clear, stern voice, but the threat was evident behind his measured words.

The man held his hands up in front of his chest in surrender. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to upset her, but I can’t let you through without all of the proper documentation.”

“Fine, we will have to come back then, after Mrs. Solo has had a chance to calm down and see our family doctor. But I’ll be taking down your badge number to report you when we get home.” Ben scrawled the number onto the back of an old receipt, gave one last scowl, then made a u-turn to start the drive back home.

Hot tears rolled silently down your cheeks as you sped along the highway in the wrong direction. Now, hours later, the scenery looked ugly and unforgiving. The snow that had been fresh and sparkling white was now a dirty brown sludge. The sun was setting, causing the trees to cast long, sharp shadows across the road. The sky, which had been a bright blue in the morning was now slate grey and clouded over, dimming the rays of the setting sun.

Neither Ben nor you spoke for the entirety of the drive home. All you could do was play the day on repeat in your head, over and over again, agonizing over every excruciating detail. You had built your hope up so high, only to have it come crashing down in a matter of hours. Ben had been right, like he always was. They didn’t ask for the pregnancy test.

The drive back to Lyndonville was much faster than the one to the border. When Ben pulled the truck into his driveway, your face was ruddy and sticky with drying tears. He got out of the car and came around to open your door. He unbuckled you then held out one hand to help you out. When you didn’t reach for it, he leaned in and scooped you up into his arms and carried you inside. 

He set you gently onto the sofa then covered you in the knit blanket that was draped across its back. He disappeared into the kitchen, only to return a moment later with whisky and two glasses. You watched the amber liquid pouring into each tumbler; it seemed to be happening in slow motion. Ben brought one glass to your lips and tipped it forwards until you felt the sting of the liquor gliding down your throat. He didn’t pull it away until you finished everything in the glass, then he refilled it, and returned it to your hand. Ben slowly sipped his own drink while he watched your blank face.

“Do you still want to go to Canada?” he asked.

You snapped out of your stupor and glared at him. “Of _course_ I want to go!”

Ben took a long drink from his whisky, keeping his eyes down. After a few moments he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “If you really want to do this, we’re going to have to take more drastic measures. We can’t risk them forcing you to undergo an exam and finding nothing.”

“...what kind of measures?” you asked. 

Ben watched you throw back the last of your drink then reach for the bottle. He pulled it out of your reach. “I don’t think you should be having this anymore.”

Your eyes darted to the bottle, then back at him. “And why not?” you shot back angrily. He just looked at you, eyes searching your face then slowly raking down your body until they rested on your abdomen. 

For the second time in the same day, tears began to sting at the corners of your eyes. You looked up at the ceiling to keep them at bay and shook your head.

“No. I can’t...I can’t do that.” The tears spilled over, thanks in part to the whisky, it always made you weepy. 

“Shhh, it’ll be okay,” Ben cooed, pulling you into his lap. He cradled you against his chest and pressed his lips to the top of your head. “I’ll take care of you little bunny.” 

He tilted your head back and brushed your tears away with his thumb. His face lowered as he placed a kiss on your cheek, lips lingering on your skin. Before you knew what was happening, his mouth was on yours, warm and soft. Your brain felt fuzzy, muddled with the alcohol. Without stopping to analyze, you responded to the physical comfort by parting your lips and letting Ben in. His tongue slipped into your mouth and began to dance around yours. You could feel his fingers threading through your hair at the back of your head, pulling you even closer to him.

When he pulled away, his eyes were half-lidded, pupils dilated. You were probably imagining it, but his soft, compassionate expression seemed to have morphed into something else, something raw and hungry. 

“Let’s get my little bunny into something more comfortable, hm?” He was already standing and carrying you to the bedroom. “Maybe a bath first?” Ben continued muttering, almost to himself, but the alcohol and the stress of the day had you dozing off in his arms. You could tell he was now sitting on the bed with you in his lap, but your eyes were barely open at this point. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful.” You felt him pull your shirt over your head. “My sweet little wife.” You might’ve been dreaming by this point. “I’ve waited so long, so patiently.” The bed groaned as he laid down with you. 

“You’ll get a little messy, but I don’t mind. That’s the way nature intended it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry there was no smut in this chapter, but it is coming!


	6. I'll never stop trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just smut, and it's noncon, so the tags have been updated, but y'all probably saw that coming a mile away

You woke up to the sound of something rustling in the bedroom. It was still dark, so you reached for the digital clock that was sitting on the bedside table. 3:02am. Squinting into blackness, you saw a shape shifting on the floor, next to the bureau. Using the flashlight on your phone, you shined light onto the form. It was Ben, crouched down and sifting through your duffel bag. He looked up, shielding his eyes.

“Hey bunny, did I wake you?” He stood up, the flashlight casting a long, jagged shadow from his frame. He was shirtless, the muscles in his chest and shoulders exaggerated from the angle of the light.

“What are you doing?” 

“Are you on birth control?” Ben’s posture was relaxed, he looked at ease, but a small muscle twitched under his eye, almost imperceptibly. You looked at him, down at the duffel, then back to Ben.

“...No.”

He smiled, showing his teeth. “I didn’t think so, been looking for a few minutes and I couldn’t find anything.”

Ben slowly stalked towards the bed where you sat, your back pressed up against the headboard and comforter clenched in your fists. “I figure it’s time we get started, hm? I want to get you to Canada as soon as possible. It’s not safe for you here.” He sat on the edge of the bed and rested one large hand on your thigh, over the blanket. 

“Get started? Ben I-” you stopped short when you felt his hand squeezing and massaging above your knee, the tips of his fingers barely reaching your inner thigh. You wanted to move away, but you felt frozen in place, his hand an anchor chaining you to the bed.

Ben climbed onto the bed, hovering above you on all fours, then sat back so that your legs were pinned underneath him. He reached for the hem of the blanket that you were now white-knuckling, and gently pried it from your fingers to pull it back. He had been undressing you when you’d fallen asleep earlier, but you were still surprised to see that you were now only wearing one of his flannels and, thankfully, the same underwear you’d put on in the morning. He leaned forward to crowd you again, then descended to your neck where you felt the warmth of his mouth placing soft kisses. When his teeth scraped over your skin, it elicited a shiver. You felt him smile into your neck.

“You like that bunny? I’ve got more where that came from,” Ben said, just before sucking the skin over your pulse into his mouth. As his mouth worked tracks into your skin, you distantly heard the clatter of your phone falling off the bed and onto the hardwood, snuffing out the narrow ray of light that had illuminated the scene before you.

One of Ben’s hands moved to hold onto your lower ribs while the other began methodically opening the buttons on your flannel. His ministrations, measured and tender, seemed to put you into a dreamlike trance, amplified by the dark room. You closed your eyes to see the same black and grey static that you saw when they were open. You squeezed them shut tighter when Ben trailed his tongue down your sternum. Now, red and green starbursts danced across your vision. When he sucked one nipple hard between his teeth, your eyes snapped open, abruptly cancelling the light show.

“Your breasts are going to grow and get heavy,” he said, cupping one. “Your body will change a lot when you’re growing our baby, but it’s beautiful, natural.” 

Ben’s words sounded like alarm, startling you into action. You squirmed and struggled beneath him until you were able to worm your way out from under his caging limbs. Stumbling over boots, you stubbed your toe on the corner of the bed frame and cried out. But you didn’t stop moving towards the door, or where you thought the door would be in the pitch black. You reached it and felt around for the knob, flinging the door open when you found it.

The hallway was dimly lit by light cast from the living room. You heard the bed creak, presumably from Ben getting up to follow. You dashed down the hall and scanned the room frantically for your shoes and coat. You didn’t have a plan, but it was freezing outside and you were barely clothed. 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Ben was standing a few feet away, his body seeming to fill both the width and height of the narrow passageway. 

“I don’t think we should be doing this. I...I changed my mind, I’m not going to Canada anymore.” You were backing into the living room as you spoke, but Ben was matching your steps, keeping a short distance between you. With a quick glance over your shoulder, you saw that you were about to bump into the sofa. You turned and darted around it so that the sofa stood as a sort of barrier between you and Ben, an impediment to him reaching you.

There was a moment of tense stillness when you contemplated which direction to run. You lunged to the right, the side closer to the front door, but Ben was faster. He intercepted you, grabbed you around the waist, and threw you down onto the couch. He knelt with one knee wedged between your legs, pushing them apart. In the light, you could see that some of his composure had dissolved. His hair looked disheveled and his jaw was clenched. He looked down between your legs and smirked.

“You may not know what you need, but your body does.” He ran a finger up your slit, over your underwear. “You’re already wet, and these,” he said, tugging at the elastic waistband, “are  _ filthy _ . Don’t worry, I’ll wash them. I said I’d take care of you.” Ben yanked your underwear the rest of the way down, maneuvering his body to pull them off your ankles.

“Ben! Let’s just talk about this in the morning, okay?” You weren’t sure if he’d heard you. Had you even said it out loud? 

He pushed his sweatpants down, grey joggers, and you stared with wide eyes as he stroked himself. He was  _ big _ , and suddenly you knew he wouldn’t fit. It wasn’t possible. But he brought his hips closer to yours and rubbed the head of his cock through your wetness. You gasped when it glided over your clit.

Ben’s body came closer, blocking out your view of the room. He rested on his forearms and all you could see were the moles that dotted his chest and the way his muscles jumped under his skin. You could feel him testing your opening, prodding with experimental pressure. He pushed through an initial barrier, then paused to let you stretch around him. You dug your nails into his biceps and tensed. 

“Relax, bunny, you’ll like this,” he said, slowly rocking his hips but not going much deeper. He smoothed your hair back from your forehead. Then, at the same time as he pressed his lips to your temple, he plunged the rest of his length inside you.

Ben groaned, low and deep. Against your will, your muscles clenched around him. Your body was betraying you, allowing this sudden intrusion without a moment of resistance.

“You’re so tight,  _ fuck _ .” Ben reached back to hitch your leg over his hip and began to pull back, only to sink back to the hilt, until he established a steady rhythm. As he picked up the pace, the air was filled with the sounds of slapping skin. You reddened when you realized the wet, squelching sounds were coming from you. Ben shifted, tilting his hips upwards, and a strangled, unintelligible sound escaped your throat. 

“That’s it, my sweet, messy girl.” Ben put two of his fingers into your mouth and you instinctively sucked them until he pulled them out and brought them between your bodies to circle your clit. 

“Ben, please-” you wanted to tell him to cut it out, but it came out as a moan. He took your words as encouragement and pressed his other hand to your stomach, right under your navel. The increased pressure, plus the way that his fingers were torturing you, pushed you over the edge. 

You came hard, convulsing along his length, your mouth hanging open soundlessly, eyes screwed shut.

“Oh fuck, good girl, I’m going to fill you up now,” Ben said as you were coming down. His words cleared the fog that had just briefly settled over your brain. He was going to come,  _ inside you _ , and soon, by the sounds of his breathing.

“Ben, no! Not inside me,” you pleaded with him. But your words didn’t seem to slow him down in the slightest. 

“Gonna come in you, get you pregnant.” Ben’s eyes were closed, his breath coming fast now. “I’m gonna breed this sweet cunt as much as I want. It’s mine.  _ You’re _ mine.” 

His chest pressed into yours, pinning you to the couch. A moment later, he let out another groan, nearly a growl, and bit onto your shoulder. He twitched and pulsed inside you, spilling his seed. He stayed deeply seated in you while his breath slowed and the last of his come emptied into you.

Finally, he pulled his hips away, his softening cock slipping out. Before you could move, Ben stuffed a couple pillows under your hips, propping them up to keep everything inside. 

“Ben, I should shower,” you said as he fussed over you, draping a blanket over your naked body and fixing the couch cushions.

“Not yet.” You opened your mouth to argue, but his eyes flashed a warning, so you settled back down. That seemed to make him happy, and he bent down to kiss the tip of your nose.

“You did so well little bunny, but now you need to be patient. Why don’t I make you something to eat? You liked my grilled cheese, right?” You just nodded numbly. 

“Good, I’ll go start that. You’ll be eating for two soon.” His lips spread into what looked like a genuine smile. “Now you stay put, little miss,” he said, wagging his finger at you before disappearing into the kitchen. You did as he said, not quite sure how to get yourself out of this mess anyway. 

Ben came back ten minutes later with a plate in each hand.

“Alright, time to eat, you can sit up now,” he said, putting the plates on the coffee table with a clatter. You winced when you pulled the pillows out from under your hips.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“No, nothing, I just felt it...dripping out of me.” Ben furrowed his brow then pulled the blanket back from your waist. He trailed his fingers through the shiny residue on your thighs and frowned.

When he looked back up to meet your eyes, his expression was neutral. 

“Not to worry, we’ll keep trying. I’ll never stop trying.”


	7. Hotel California

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More noncon! If you've made it this far, you must be cool with that. I've been waiting to write this chapter since I started this story, so I hope you enjoy.

In the morning, Ben had returned to his “normal” self again. You would even go so far as to say that he was  _ cheerful _ , which just served to make you angry. You knew what had happened last night - he’d taken you against your will, and no amount of home cooked food or sweet words would ever change that. He’d said that it was for your own good, but he had enjoyed it too much for you to believe him. 

That morning, hours after he’d raped you in a twisted attempt to get you pregnant, you decided that he couldn’t keep you hostage like this. He’d convinced you that you needed him to get to Canada, but you knew there had to be another way. And after he fell asleep tonight, you were going to make a break for it, on foot, mountain lions be damned. Until then, you had to put on your best game face so that he wouldn’t catch on to what you were planning.

“I was thinking we could go get a few things for the baby today, what do you think?” he asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably a good idea. He’ll need a place to sleep I suppose.” You forced a laugh, trying to keep the conversation relaxed.

“You think it’ll be a boy? I was hoping for a girl, but maybe we’ll just have a couple of each.” Ben’s eyes glinted wickedly, but he broke into an easy grin a moment later. “One thing at a time though, right?”

“Right.”  _ Keep calm, you’ll be out of here before you know it. _

  
  


Ben’s truck pulled into the parking lot of a K-Mart, the first one you’d seen in at least a decade. To be honest, you thought they were all closed at this point, but Lyndonville was like a time capsule stuck twenty years in the past, so it seemed fitting. He climbed out of the truck first, then came around to the passenger side to open your door. Ben seemed to like doing things like that. It was starting to make you uneasy, but you gave a small smile and went along with it. You strolled into the K-Mart hand-in-hand, feeling like you’d entered the Twilight Zone.

The store was quiet inside, with only a few other customers milling around, and an oldies radio station playing through the overhead speakers. Ben first led you to the clothing area to look at baby clothes.

“Look at how cute these are,” he said, keeping the volume of his voice low and intimate. He was holding up the tiniest pair of snow boots you’d ever seen, like L.L. Bean for dolls.

“I don’t think a baby is going to be walking through snow Ben, he won’t be walking at all for a while.” Ben frowned, and you realized that the tension and annoyance you were feeling had seeped into your tone. To make up for it, you reached for the closest thing to you, a pair of baby socks, and offered them as an alternative. 

“How about these instead?” 

Ben’s face broke into a wide grin. “Bunnies for my baby bunny?” You looked down to see that the socks had little cartoon rabbits embroidered on them. Your face reddened - that wasn’t what you had intended, but it seemed to make Ben happy, and he put them in the shopping cart.

Next, you strolled over to the display of cribs and strollers. Ben was inspecting each of them and droning on about the safety features that they had. You allowed him the occasional “mhm,” and “oh?” so that he would think you were paying attention, but in reality, you couldn’t care less. He didn’t seem to understand that the two of you wouldn’t be needing any of this, because there wasn’t going to  _ be _ a baby. You spaced out, focusing on the staticky radio instead of Ben’s voice, which could rumble in such a way that it turned into white noise. The Eagles were playing, something familiar that you used to sing along to in the car with friends. 

_ Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light _

_ My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim _

_ I had to stop for the night _

“So this one then?”

“Huh?” This time, Ben was actually waiting for a real response.

“Do you like this crib?” He nodded his head to the right, pointing out the crib nearest him.

“Oh yeah, that one looks good.” That answer seemed to please him, and he pulled a large, heavy box from the shelf under the display. You watched the veins pop out from his muscles as he lifted the box into the shopping cart. Sometimes he acted so gentle and bashful that you forgot how truly strong and massive he was. You tried not to think of what he was capable of if he were to find out about your escape plans.

After collecting the crib, the two of you continued walking down the aisles of the store at a leisurely pace. Soon you were standing in front of shelves of vitamins and supplements. 

“You need to start taking prenatal vitamins,” he said, scanning the selection.

This was starting to become infuriating. Ben clearly lived in a fantasy world if he thought you were really going to go along with all of this. But you just nodded, biding your time until the evening.

As he compared the labels of two nearly identical supplements, someone else came into the aisle. A woman, in her thirties, looked down at her shopping list then back up to the shelves. You willed yourself to be invisible, but she looked in your direction and her face lit up.

“Ben? So good to see you!” she said.

“Jodie! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He smiled warmly at her, then pulled you to his side, securing you there with one hand around your waist.

“This is my wife - newlyweds.” He kissed your head and flashed her his wedding band along with a winning smile. Your heart sank a little bit. He sounded so happy. Maybe he hadn’t meant to hurt you the other night. He just wanted a family to take care of. It made you feel guilty about running away. 

“Already expecting?” Jodie asked, eyebrows raised in question as she looked at the crib.

“Fingers crossed!” Ben grinned and put his other hand on your stomach. “We’re trying like the devil anyway,” he said, then winked. They both laughed while you stood there uncomfortably.

As they bantered about the old days in Lyndonville, you tuned them out, just in time to hear the last verse of the song.

_ Last thing I remember _

_ I was running for the door _

_ I had to find the passage back to the place I was before _

_ “Relax,” said the night man _

_ “We are programmed to receive _

_ You can check out any time you like _

_ But you can never leave.” _

**********

That night, after settling into bed, you pretended to sleep while you waited for Ben’s breathing to slow and his body to relax beside you. It was a delicate operation extricating yourself from his arms, but you managed to do it without waking him. 

Slowly, quietly, you tiptoed out of the bedroom. You’d gone to sleep in as many layers as you could get away with without arousing any suspicion. Some of it was Ben’s, like his thick wool socks and flannel, but you wore your own pants to ensure mobility while on the run. 

He must have known this was coming - he’d practically encouraged it when he bought you the warm parka and snow boots. You were going to have to sneak through the woods in the middle of the night, and he’d provided the gear. Taking Ben’s car was out of the question - it could be easily spotted, and you needed to keep a low profile.

In the kitchen you packed a bag full of food, throwing in whatever you could find. Ben had a lot of jerky in the pantry, so you took that, along with some hard cheese from the fridge, and a bag of trail mix. Last, you filled his largest canteen with water. You figured you could probably reach the border in a few days, so that should probably be enough supplies. 

After you had everything gathered that you thought you’d need, you stood still and surveyed the house in the dim moonlight that filtered through the windows. Despite yourself, you felt a pang of sadness and betrayal. Ben had seemed like such a nice guy at first. You’d even considered a real relationship with him after making it into Canada. He didn’t know that of course, but maybe you should have told him. Maybe that would have saved you from all of this pain.

But there was no going back in time. All you could hope for now was that Ben hadn’t gotten you pregnant so you could eventually wipe your memory of his existence. Without another moment of lingering and contemplation, you opened the front door and silently slipped out into the night air.

Night time in the winter was brutal in northern Vermont. It had to be below zero degrees, the wind chill taking it to minus twenty. You zipped your coat up as high as it would go and pulled the hood over your head so that only your eyes peeked out. Thankfully, it wasn’t snowing, but you were frequently buffeted by icy blasts of air as you trudged into the woods. You had a general idea of where north was, so you set off in that direction, using the stars to keep a straight path.

After only a few minutes, the cold air started to burn your lungs and the tears that streamed from the corners of your eyes froze solid on your skin. You pushed forward anyway, gritting your teeth and keeping your head down. You occupied your mind with thoughts of reuniting with Rose in Canada and returning to a normal way of life. It would be a glorious day when perfect strangers weren’t concerned with your marital status and supposed developing fetus.

About an hour into your escape, you had to stop. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You hadn’t really considered yourself “out of shape”, but it required some serious athleticism to do this: hike uneven terrain, through deep snow, in the dark. Not to mention the terror that you had to suppress every few minutes when you thought a mountain lion might be stalking you. That’s how big cats hunted. They’d sneak up behind you and pounce before you even realized you were in danger. Your adrenaline spiked just thinking about the predators that roamed these mountains.

A big Norway spruce provided the perfect shelter for this intermission. It had long, low boughs that blocked out the snow from the tree’s trunk, creating a den of sorts for you to crawl into and find refuge from the wind. You crawled on your hands and knees to get under the branches. It wasn’t very roomy, but it was a good enough place to stop and catch your breath.

You used this time to drink some water and eat a little bit to replenish your energy. A few minutes later, your heart rate was back down to a safe level, and you figured you ought to keep trekking on. You were packing the canteen away when you heard a branch snap in the distance. It was probably a racoon or squirrel, but you froze and listened intently anyway. 

Another branch snapped, this time a bit louder. Soon, you could hear the icy crust on top of the snow breaking as something punched through it. Quietly, you backed yourself as closely to the tree trunk as you could. If someone was out there, there was no way they could find your hiding place. 

The sounds stopped and you held your breath, waiting for what would come next.

“I know you’re out there!”

Ben. Of course he had found you. You’d expected that. But you thought you might’ve had a better head start before he did. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he called. You squeezed your eyes shut tight.

_ He won’t find me. He  _ can’t _ find me. I’m safe here. _

“You thought you could run from me bunny? Thought you could get away?” His voice sounded strained and ragged. You held your breath as you heard him coming nearer. 

“I’ll always find you, little bunny, so why don’t you come on out? I won’t be mad.” 

It sounded like he was circling your hiding spot under the tree branches. His steps were slow and measured.  _ Crunch...crunch...crunch _ . Any closer and he would see you. A few crumbles of ice skittered into your burrow, flung from Ben’s boots. Suddenly, your eyes went wide.

He was toying with you, like a cat with its mouse. Your footprints had led him directly to you like glowing flares in the dark. 

His boots came to a stop right in front of your hiding spot, inches away from the entry point. The next thing you knew, moonlight was streaming in as Ben held the branches back, exposing you. 

“There she is, there’s my girl.” Ben reached in and hauled you out by the arm, as you kicked and struggled against his grip. 

“Let me  _ go! _ ” You tried to rip your arm away, but his fingers dug into your flesh, even through all the layers. 

“Now, now, that’s no way to show your gratitude. You would have frozen to death out here if I hadn’t found you,” he said, unperturbed by your flailing. “I think you’ve forgotten who you belong to.”

Ben grabbed your cheeks in his hand and pulled you into a rough kiss. His mouth was hot, providing momentary relief from the frigid air. You leaned into him for a second, absorbing the warmth of his body. But soon, your senses returned and you jerked away, your eyes wildly searching his. Something about him seemed off. His jaw was set and a small muscle twitched under his right eye. For a few tense moments, you both stood still, stuck in a stalemate. Only your breath, frozen into frosty white clouds, dared to move.

An owl cooed in the distance, shattering the silence, and you made a break for it. 

You sprinted through the woods, not daring to look back or take care for where you ran. All that mattered was putting distance between you and Ben. You were sure that he was following, but you couldn’t hear his pursuit over the sounds of your heavy breathing and boots breaking through the snow. Your muscles screamed in protest, but you couldn’t stop.

In the distance, you could see a dense stand of pine trees, perfect for covering your tracks and losing Ben. It was only about twenty feet away, so close you could almost feel your freedom.

Ten feet away.

Five feet.

In a split second, your body was slammed into the ground, ice biting into the bare skin of your face. The weight of Ben’s body pressed you to the ground. He took both of your wrists in one of his hands and pinned them against the ground above your head.

“I said you couldn’t get away. I warned you, but you didn’t listen, did you?” he grunted. You just squirmed beneath him, struggling to get free. “I love you, little bunny, but I need to teach you a lesson. You need to learn that this kind of behavior is unacceptable.”

He used one knee to push your legs apart, then reached between your bodies to yank your pants down your hips. 

“Wait, Ben! I’ll come home, you don’t have to do this!” you cried. 

“I don’t think you understand, I  _ want _ to do this.” With that, he thrust into you, his hips meeting yours in one fluid motion. He groaned into your ear, then began fucking you in earnest. 

“This is your place baby, right here, right under me. You understand?” Each snap of his hips caused your breath to hitch.

“You’re mine.  _ Say it _ .” Just like before, your body was relaxing and opening up for Ben, despite your brain screaming for you to get away. You couldn’t stop the heat pooling between your legs any more than you could pry his huge body off of you. All there was left to do was succumb.

“I’m yours,” you said, each word punctuated by Ben’s thrusts.

“Fuck, that’s right, good girl.” He licked a stripe up the side of your neck then suddenly bit down as his body tensed and his cock twitched inside you. He stilled for a moment, spilling inside you. You laid there, not having a choice in the matter, and felt the cold seeping into you through all of your layers.

When Ben’s breathing returned back to normal, you waited for him to pull out and get off of you. But he started slowly thrusting again instead, making obscene squelching sounds from both of your wetness.

“Ben, I’m cold, can we go home?” Your words came out through chattering teeth.

“Oh honey, we’ll go back soon, let me just enjoy you a little bit longer.” He placed soft, sweet kisses all along the nape of your neck as he pressed his hips into yours, grinding when he bottomed out.

Despite yourself, you arched your spine and pressed back into him. Ben let out a satisfied “hmph,” and pulled your hips up higher as he pushed down on your shoulder blades. You grimaced at the snow in your face, burning you with its cold. A moment later, you heard a zipper being pulled, and then Ben was stuffing his coat under your head.

“Better now?”

“Mhm.” This wasn’t so bad, Ben was going to take care of you. And the baby.

Your hips bounced back to meet his as pleasure began to mount in your core. He hooked two fingers into your mouth and used that to leverage himself as he increased his pace. Saliva began to drool from your mouth. Then, without warning, you were coming, which triggered Ben’s orgasm seconds later.

You collapsed to the ground after Ben released your hips, freezing and thoroughly spent. You laid there and tried to wiggle all of your fingers and toes, but everything felt stiff and numb.

“I think it’s time we go inside now,” he said. You could hear him zipping up his pants and fixing his clothes behind you.

“Come now, bunny.” Ben was already standing. You tried pressing your hands to the ground to lift onto your knees, but your body felt weak and heavy. All you wanted to do was sleep.

“In a bit,” you mumbled. Your limbs were starting to feel warm again, and you let your eyes flutter shut, finally comfortable after a long, tiring night.

You heard Ben sigh, then he was wrapping you in his jacket and carrying you cradled against his chest. Soon, the rhythmic swaying of his body as he walked through the woods lulled you into a deep, black sleep. 


	8. Sweet dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tags have been updated! Check before reading for TWs

When you came to, your eyes slowly fluttering open, you thought you might be in bed, tucked under many warm blankets. But as your vision focused, you realized that you were naked in a hot bath, steam rising in hazy clouds around you. The second you could make sense of your surroundings and regain some mental clarity, you were struck with searing pain that shot through the length of your extremities, ending like knives in your hands and feet. 

Ben was kneeling beside the tub, and upon noticing your new state of consciousness, leapt into action. He reached for the hand closest to him and began massaging its muscles and tendons vigorously, water splashing from his hasty movements. You wanted to tell him that he was doing this all wrong, but all you could get out were pained groans. If he really wanted to save you from hypothermia, he wouldn’t be directing precious, warm blood away from your heart. Hopefully the hot bath water was enough to counteract Ben’s dangerous medical “treatment”, but it seemed to be another primary source of your immense discomfort.

“Oh bunny, bunny...” Ben softly moaned, his words almost getting caught in his throat. Your head lolled over onto your shoulder so that you could see his face. It was shiny with nervous sweat and his mouth was screwed up tight like he was trying to hold something in. By the looks of it, tears brimming on bloodshot eyes, he was. You wanted to feel angry with him, this was all his fault after all, but you found you didn’t have the energy. If Ben had just let you run off, you would be well on your way to the Canadian border by now, or dead, both of which were better than lying naked and covered in frostbite in his bathtub.

“S’okay,” you mumbled through wind-chapped lips. Ben’s eyes grew wide at this statement of forgiveness. He brought the hand he had been painfully squeezing up to his lips with a sob, bowing his head as he did.

“I’m so sorry, bunny, that wasn’t right. You could have died out there -- the  _ baby  _ could have died out there.” Ben continued to blubber on, seemingly to himself, about how upsetting he had found the night. Based on his reaction, it was almost as if  _ his _ life had been in danger. Clearly, his delusions ran deep.

But even still, something about it was endearing. You could tell that your existence meant something to him. He didn’t want to lose you, and he was showing you that he’d go through hell and high water to prove it. Thinking back on your time together, Ben had always done his best to make sure you were comfortable; he was a caregiver at heart, and wasn’t that all you wanted from a partner? From the future father of your child? Your head was starting to throb, so you dropped the train of thought there.

When finally your body was left with only dull aches instead of stabbing pain, and the deep chill had been thawed out from your bones, you sat up straighter in the tub to signal wordlessly to Ben that you were ready to get out. He reached in to pick you up, submerging his shirt sleeves up to the shoulders in the process; he didn’t seem to notice or care. He dried you off then carried you to bed. For some reason, he didn’t even want to let your feet touch the ground, but in your deep exhaustion, it didn’t irk you like his overbearing ways normally did.

Ben dressed you in his warmest flannel and fleece, then buried you in a mountain of blankets, tucking you in up to your chin. You thought he was going to leave you like that, but he stripped down to his boxers and climbed under the covers after you. In his state of undress, you could feel the heat radiating off of his body, and despite everything he had done, you clung to his warmth, curling into his chest. Ben wrapped his arms around your back and pulled you tightly against him.

“Sleep, my sweet.”

In the morning, you woke feeling more like yourself, the physical traumas of the previous day all but gone. You could hear the light, muffled sound of dishes clinking and clattering in the kitchen. Moments later, Ben came into the bedroom with a steaming bowl of soup and hot tea on a tray. 

“I brought you breakfast in bed,” he said with an unsure smile, like you were going to fling the tray and all of its contents in his face. When your stomach grumbled though, he took it as an invitation and walked up to the edge of the bed. Balancing the tray in one hand, Ben propped a few pillows behind your back to allow you to sit up, then set the tray on your lap. 

“Thank you.” You started to bring a spoonful of soup to your mouth when Ben grabbed your wrist, a terrified look on his face.

“You’ll burn yourself, it’s too hot,” then, he took the spoon from your hands and blew on it to cool it down before bringing it the rest of the way to your lips. A confused and incredulous look settled on your face, but you opened your mouth to allow the bite. Last night, he had allowed you to freeze near to death for his personal pleasure, and now you were too precious to handle hot soup. 

You thought Ben might leave you alone to eat now, but instead, he settled onto the edge of the bed and continued to feed you, opening his mouth when he brought the spoon up to you, as if you didn’t know to open your own. Some of the broth dribbled down your chin, but Ben wiped it away with his finger, then pushed it into your mouth for you to clean off. Before you knew it, the spoon was scraping the bottom of the bowl. 

“Good girl, nice and full. Now, drink your tea, it’s herbal with a little bit of honey.” Ben beamed down at you and brushed a few stray hairs out of your face.

“I’m going into town today, is there anything my bunny wants while I’m there?” 

Ben was really doting to make up for his behavior, so you decided to take advantage of it.

“Yes, I want...cheese and crackers, and sushi and, oh! Chocolate too, the kind with caramel inside of it.” You made sure to put on your best puppy dog eyes while you listed everything off. Ben smiled softly at you and stroked your arm.

“Of course, whatever you want, but no sushi, it’s not good for the baby.” You crossed your arms and huffed. It was infuriating the way Ben talked about “the baby” when it didn’t even exist yet. You supposed he was being cautious, since it was technically possible, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

“...fine,” you mumbled, then Ben leaned down to kiss the top of your head before leaving.

  
  


The slamming of the front door woke you a few hours later. You hadn’t meant to doze off, but you had been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours, and your body was apparently still recovering. Ben knocked lightly on the door, slightly ajar already, then pushed it open the rest of the way. 

“Hey there, sleepyhead.”

You pushed yourself to sitting and yawned, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you did. You blinked a few times then looked at Ben again and realized he was holding a paper grocery bag in the crook of one arm.

“I got you the things you ask for, and a few extras,” he said with a grin. He came to sit on the edge of the bed once more and started pulling things out of the bag to array in front of you on the bed. There was a variety box of crackers, three different types of cheeses, a Godiva chocolate bar, with caramel in it like you had asked, and a small stack of magazines that had images of baked goods and interior decor on their covers. It was all quite thoughtful of him. 

“Thank you, Ben,” you said, and leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, figuring he deserved it. His cheeks reddened in turn, and he raised his fingers to graze the spot.

“I have one more thing for you, just sit tight and close your eyes.”

He gathered the groceries back into the bag and left the room, his heavy footfalls alerting you of his return a minute later.

“Alright, lean forward a bit and keep your eyes closed,” he said. You did as you were told, then felt him sweeping your hair all to one shoulder, followed shortly by something wrapping snugly around your neck. There was a soft click before Ben pulled his hands away. You opened your eyes and reached your fingers up to investigate. It felt like a band of supple leather, maybe an inch and a half thick. You might have thought it was jewelry if it weren’t for the hard, rectangular protrusion at the back of your neck; it felt cool and smooth like metal.

“Ben...what is this?” You continued to slide your fingers over the material, searching for some tactile clues as to what he had put on you.

Ben stepped back away from the bed to admire you. “It’s so that I don’t lose you again.”

Your fingers froze on the box at the back of your neck. “Is this...a collar? A  _ tracking _ collar?”

Ben ran a hand through his hair and kept his eyes on the floor, only flicking his gaze up once to gauge your reaction, which was stunned and furious. His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Take it off -- right now!” Even as you made your demand, you pulled and twisted the material as if you might have the strength to rip apart leather and metal.

“I can’t do that,” Ben said to the floor.

Teared welled up in your eyes. “And why not, Ben?”

“I have to keep you safe. You and the baby.” He came back over to your side, sitting again on the bed. As the tears overflowed onto your cheeks and whimpers turned into sobs, Ben pulled you into his chest, one large hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. It didn’t work to calm you though, and soon your breaths were coming unevenly as your body shook in his arms. You needed to mourn your loss of freedom, but doing it with your face buried in Ben’s soft flannel didn’t seem appropriate somehow. The hard metal tracking device bit into the skin at the back of your neck and you cried harder, weakly beating your fists against his chest until he gathered both wrists in one hand to stop you. 

“Hush now, let me get you something to calm those delicate nerves.” Ben left you to cry alone for a few minutes. You thought that his leaving your sight would ease some of the pain, but it just made you feel more empty and alone.

When he returned a few minutes later, you looked at him through puffy eyelids and saw he was holding a steaming cup of tea. 

“I made this up special for you bunny, it’ll make you feel better.” You highly doubted that some leaves steeped in water could do  _ anything _ to make this situation even a little bit better, but you took the mug from him numbly anyway. 

“Careful now, it’s hot,” Ben warned, but let you bring it to your lips yourself. You blew across the surface and watched the liquid ripple, almost in a trance. You took one tentative sip to test the temperature. It washed down your throat, coating your tongue in a strangely sweet flavor, like liquorice and cloves and something else that made your mouth tingle in a not entirely unpleasant way. You glanced at Ben who nodded to encourage you to keep going.

By the time you had drained half the mug, you were feeling light and relaxed, like you were weightless and floating. You wanted to keep drinking, but the mug suddenly felt too heavy to lift, so Ben helped raise it to your lips. When you were looking into the bottom of the empty mug, he took it away to set on the bedside table. Your body was buzzing like all of your limbs had fallen asleep, but you hadn’t yet joined them, stuck drifting between the physical world and a dream world.

When Ben lowered you to lay flat on the bed, the room went spinning. You closed your eyes to keep the motion sickness at bay and were plunged into a fitful sleep. You dreamt of running through deep snow drifts, your heart pumping with adrenaline. There was a knoll you wanted to crest in the distance; you knew that you would be safe hiding in the shadows on the other side of it. Your limbs grew heavy and sluggish, but the peak was drawing nearer. Just as it was in reach, you were yanked back. Scrabbling at your neck, you felt a leash clasped to a collar. It dragged you back to where you had come, choking you all the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this, I recently wrote a two-shot that you may also enjoy, as well as the first chapter to a new story (both of these have rape/non-con, but see the tags and summaries for more details) - check out my profile to find them!


	9. Respite

All the next morning, Ben was acting strange. Very chipper, but you couldn’t understand why. Maybe he was happy that he finally had you under lock and key, figuratively speaking. He made pancakes for breakfast and poured them into the pan to look like Mickey Mouse - a circle head and two round ears. After he checked his watch for the third time you were finally annoyed enough to ask him what his deal was. You couldn’t help being irritable when your new collar was chafing your neck after a night of tossing and turning.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, so we’ve got to hurry up. I’ll clean up the dishes when you’re done eating so that you can take a quick shower.” You couldn’t detect a lie from his tone of voice, but the collar had been a surprise too, and you were  _ not _ happy about that. Today’s treat better not be a ball and chain.

When you came back into the living room, showered and dressed, Ben was waiting for you wearing his boots and winter coat. You stopped in your tracks before crossing the room. If Ben’s idea of a surprise was a trip to the local antique shop where everyone in town could oogle you, you’d lock yourself in the bedroom instead. It felt like it had been a long time since you’d interacted with anyone besides Ben, but downtown Lyndonville was full of prying eyes that you didn’t want to face this morning.

“What’s all this about? Where are we going?” you asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“It’s a  _ surprise _ , silly, I can’t spoil it by telling you before we get there,” he said, taking your parka off the coat tree. You scoffed out loud at his nickname for you. His nonchalance was quite frankly insulting - the two of you were  _ not _ that close. But when his face began to fall, the excited puppy dog eyes dimming, you held back the urge to roll your eyes and accepted your coat from him, instantly making him light back up.

“Wait - it’s cold out, stay here.” Ben left you with your hand hovering over the door knob. A few seconds later he returned with a blue tartan scarf and black mittens. You mumbled a ‘thank you’ and put them on before heading into the frigid air. Ben hurried ahead of you to open the truck’s passenger door, always the perfect gentleman. 

You were relieved when the truck turned onto the highway; you could handle going to an antique shop as long as it wasn’t in Lyndonville. The road signs said you were going west too, so Ben wasn’t driving to the border again, thank god. You’d have to return at some point, but you needed a better plan before that day came.

It was a clear day, bright with big, fluffy clouds artfully scattered across the blue sky. Ben had the radio set to a Top 40 station and an Arctic Monkeys song came through the crackling speakers. If you looked out the window, Ben entirely out of your periphery, it almost felt like a normal day. 

Ben left you to your thoughts for the entirety of the hour long car ride. Your mind drifted back to what felt like another life. On a day like today, you might be heading out to the farmer’s market to pick up some produce. Or maybe you’d have a lazy day reading on your porch swing. At night, you’d call up a few friends to go out for drinks. You sighed unhappily at the thought. It had been so long since you’d done your makeup at a friend’s house, raided their closet, and taken shots of cheap liquor before the taxi arrived to take you downtown. Your heart twisted painfully at the thought of Rose, who must be worried sick that you still hadn’t arrived in Canada to live with her. If things had gone differently, you might’ve been in the car with  _ her _ today instead of Ben.

Even before Ben, life for women had already started to become more dangerous. It had been many months since you’d felt safe walking down the sidewalk at night, even in well-lit areas. People sneered, cat-called, and approached you. Without a wedding band or a man by your side, strangers took a lot of liberties, as though you were property free for the taking. 

At least Ben afforded some physical protection, whether it was against your will or not. He towered over most people and was built like a linebacker, likely from years of physical labor as a logger. The diamond ring didn’t hurt either, but it was all an act, artificial. What kind of a commitment was a fake marriage anyway? Could Ben really be trusted to look out for you? 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the quieting of the truck’s engine. You looked around, dazed, and realized you were in a parking garage. There was no indication of where Ben had taken you except that you must still be in Vermont, based on the license plates that you could see on the surrounding cars. As usual, Ben came around to the passenger door before you even had the chance to unbuckle and helped you out of the truck. He laced his fingers with yours and led you towards the garage’s stairwell.

“Are you going to tell me where we are?” you asked, a bit exasperated. Ben didn’t seem bothered, the corners of his mouth curling up into the beginnings of a smile. He waited until you both exited the parking garage, the burst of bright sunlight momentarily blinding you, to make his big reveal.

“We’re in Burlington! I thought we could use a fun day together after being cooped up in the house for so long. Think of it as a date.” Ben was grinning now, clearly pleased with himself.

Looking around, you could see that you’d ended up on a brick-paved pedestrian street, lined on both sides by cute local shops and restaurants. A lot of people were out enjoying the weather, leisurely walking their dogs or getting coffee. The street sign at the next intersection read “Church Street”. 

Though you’d never been, you knew that Burlington was the most populous part of Vermont. In your memory, it was a bustling college town tucked up against Lake Champlain, somewhere you’d always meant to have a weekend away but never got around to. Seeing it now, it seemed to somehow have been spared from the changes sweeping the country. People looked  _ happy _ and carefree, like they used to on sunny Saturday mornings. It felt like being transported back in time, and it lifted a tiny bit of the crushing weight of anxiety from your chest.

You looked up at Ben who was still beaming down at you. “Thank you,” you murmured tentatively. 

“Come on, we’ve got some shopping to do, and two blocks down there’s a man who sells the best kettle corn.” Ben continued to ramble on about all the things he wanted to do and show you, but you could barely hear him as you processed your surroundings. When you felt tears welling up, you blinked quickly to force them back. No way were you going to waste today weeping over the past; you might as well enjoy this small respite from reality while it lasted.

As you strolled down the street, Ben encouraged you to go into every store that you spared the slightest glance. In a tea shop you picked up some loose leaf and a cute new mug, and when you passed an adorable bakery, Ben bought you a strawberry frosted donut. Slowly, you began to loosen up and enjoy yourself. Nobody stared, nobody knew you, and that was the most freeing of all. Reaching up to adjust your scarf at one point, you realized that no one could see your collar. To everyone else on the street, you were just another young married couple out enjoying the day, with no dark backstory to speak of.

Around noon, Ben stopped outside of a nail salon and peered through the windows. “Doesn’t look too busy in there, you wanna get a manicure?”

A small giggle escaped you before you clamped a mittened hand over your mouth. “What will you do in the meantime? Are you getting one too?”

Ben tilted his head to the side and looked down quizzically. “No, silly, I’ll just go grab a coffee.”

Now it was your turn to look confused. He was just going to leave you there? After your escape attempt the other day? You stared at Ben’s face, dumbfounded for a few seconds, then snapped out of it and quickly nodded your head. “Yes, that sounds lovely.” 

“Okay, bunny, I’ll be right around the corner if you need anything.” After handing you a few twenty dollar bills, he leaned down to kiss the top of your head, waited for you to enter the salon, then headed down the street without another look back.

The inside of the salon was like an oasis. There was soft music playing over the speakers overlaid by the bantering of the nail technicians. The air smelled of lacquer, a comforting and nostalgic scent. You walked over to the wall of nail polish to select a color, heart pattering excitedly. Never in a million years would you have thought you’d have this reaction to something so mundane. In your old life you probably would have chosen something subtle, like a nude or pale pink, but now, who knew the next time you’d be in a nail salon? You plucked a bright cherry red off of the wall and carried it over to the woman standing at the front desk.

“Mani-pedi?” she asked. You checked the cash Ben had given you - there was $100 there. 

“Yes please.” Ben had only mentioned a manicure, but he’d given you much too much for that, so you figured it was okay to spend. He could wait with his coffee an extra thirty minutes. Giddy, you followed the nail technician to a lounge chair and kicked off your boots.

For the next forty-five minutes, you flipped through fashion magazines, adjusted the massage settings on your chair, and made small talk with the nail tech. It was all so  _ human _ . When both the manicure and pedicure were finished and you were sitting at the drying table, the bells over the salon’s door jangled. Ben came in and waved, walking over.

“Did you have fun, bunny?” He rubbed his hands over your shoulders and gave them a light squeeze. You looked up and gave him a genuine smile.

“Yeah, I can’t remember the last time I did that.”

“Anything for you.” Ben leaned down to kiss your cheek.

By the time the sun was beginning to set, you had explored all of the shops on Church Street and tried the kettle corn that Ben had been so eager for. The two of you headed back to the parking garage, shopping bags swinging at your sides. Even though it was safe for you to be out after dark with Ben, you could tell he was not keen on testing that theory.

“Can we pick up a pizza for dinner on the way home?” you asked once you were seated in the truck. 

“You’re not having cravings already, are you?” he asked, suddenly more serious. Your chest tightened at the question. You’d been surprised that he hadn’t mentioned “the baby” all day, and eventually all thoughts about that had slipped your mind, allowing you to feel normal for a few hours. After such a great day though, you could allow him  _ one  _ baby question without penalty.

“No, Ben, I just like pizza.” He nodded thoughtfully but let it go after that. You sighed a breath of relief.

Back at home, the two of you plowed through a large pizza in near-silence, though it wasn’t the tense quiet you were used to. Something about the evening was comfortable, almost familiar. After eating and clearing away the dishes, you changed into one of Ben’s flannels - your usual bedtime attire these days - and settled onto the couch with a magazine. Ben seated himself on the cushion next to yours and picked a book to read alongside you. He had started a fire in the wood stove which bathed the room in warmth and suffused it in low light.

After a few minutes, Ben’s arm found its way around your shoulders, tucking you up against his side. He didn’t look away from his book to do it, so you didn’t move or say anything either, afraid to break the spell that had been cast over the day. Soon, his thumb was rubbing small, soft circles on your upper arm; you settled into his embrace and rested your head on his shoulder.

For the first time in a while, you felt at ease. There was still the matter of the tracking collar secured around your neck, but for one evening, you could overlook Ben’s obsessive tendencies if it meant bringing your cortisol back to a healthy level.

Ben’s hand drifted from your arm up to the nape of your neck, skipping over the collar to leisurely run his fingers through your hair. It was soothing and methodical, and soon your eyes were fluttering shut, magazine forgotten in your lap. It was so relaxing that you didn’t even stir when you felt his lips press gently against your temple. His lips then left your skin, only to return a moment later on the apple of your cheek, then again to the bridge of your nose. Without realizing it, your face, then your shoulders, turned in towards Ben to accept his affections. His lips traveled over to the opposite cheek, then down to your jaw, working from just below your ear all the way to the corner of your mouth. The warmth of the room and the soft pressure of Ben’s plush lips had you hypnotized enough that you crawled into his lap, eyes peeking open to find your way.

You looked up at Ben’s face to see his eyes heavily lidded, like he was half-asleep himself. He took the brief eye contact as an opportunity to sweep in and kiss you fully on the mouth. It was sweet and tender, and against your better judgement, you leaned into it. Ben’s hands came up to cradle your head, fingers threading through your hair and nearly meeting each other around the back. He used this new position to bring you in closer, parting his lips to deepen the kiss. You surprised both Ben and yourself when your tongue darted into his mouth first. He rumbled a low, pleased growl in response and dropped one hand down to your waist to pull your body in tighter to his.

You squirmed in his lap when his mouth broke away to trail kisses down your neck, but he pulled away suddenly with a huff of exasperation. Ben looked into your eyes, searching for something wordlessly. You could feel his fingers resting on top of the collar, one of them tapping lightly as he sat, apparently deep in thought. His finger stilled and the thoughtful expression cleared from his face when he reached a conclusion to whatever internal conflict he’d been contemplating. Without sharing any of it with you, Ben lifted you off his lap, placed you on the couch, then crossed the room to the coat tree. He rifled through his coat pockets until he found what he was looking for, though you couldn’t see what it was before he stuffed it into his shirt pocket. 

Ben returned to the couch, this time sitting next to you, and swept your hair all to one shoulder. He pulled out a tiny silver key and began fiddling with the back of your collar. Your heart jumped into your throat. He was removing this ridiculous thing with barely any protest on your end. You held your breath as you felt the collar come away from your skin and resisted the urge to immediately bring your hands up to feel your freed neck. 

The elation that you felt was brief though, as Ben knelt down and secured the collar around your ankle, tightening the strap until it was snug. Your heart instantly sank, but you had to admit, it was an improvement to your situation. Ben rose back up to the couch and dove into your neck, immediately covering it in hungry, open-mouthed kisses. 

“It was in my way, bunny,” he mumbled into your neck. Your breath hitched at the sensations, somehow more sensitive in the absence of the collar. He paused to look up and catch your eyes once more. “I know you don’t want it at all, baby, but it’s for your protection, okay?”

What could you do but nod? Ben smiled at your apparent understanding. Then, his brows lifted like he had just remembered something, his smile growing into a toothy grin. 

“I have one more surprise for you. Can you close your eyes and hold out your hands?”

Again, you nodded and did as he asked. A moment later you felt something square and lightweight resting in your palm.

“Okay, open.”

You looked down to see that it was a jewelry box. “Should I open it now?” you asked.

“Of course, silly, that’s why I gave it to you.” He was as eager as if he were the one receiving a gift. 

When you lifted the lid off the box you drew in a soft gasp. “Oh, Ben, this is beautiful, you shouldn’t have,” you said, but you were already lifting it out of the velvet cushion. You held up a gold chain in one hand and cupped the pendant in the other, bringing it close to your face to examine the detail. It was a heart-shaped locket engraved with a spiral, foliar motif. You gently pried open the heart to see two empty slots for photos.

“I was browsing some shops while you were in the salon, and when I saw this, I knew it was meant for you.” Ben reached out one hand, gesturing to the necklace. “May I?” he asked. You handed it to him and twisted in your seat so that he could secure the clasp at the back of your neck. You reached up to feel where the heart settled, right at the juncture of your collarbones. 

In the moment, pleased as you were with the gift, it didn’t strike you that Ben had now marked you as his twice on your body. You were still being tracked, now essentially with an ankle monitor, and a more socially acceptable symbol of your relationship rested on your chest for all to see. It wasn’t enough for him though, even _ that _ you knew as you fingered the locket pendant idly. Ben wanted to mark you another way, more permanently. He wanted to join your bodies and plant life inside of you. Maybe he had some sort of savior complex, wishing for his seed to protect you from the harsh ways of this developing new world order. Or maybe it was something more animalistic; maybe he just wanted to pin you down, use you, own you. 

Tonight, though, you pushed those thoughts away deep into the recesses of your psyche. You allowed yourself to believe that this was a normal night at the end of a pleasant day with your husband. You leaned in to kiss him. “Thank you, Ben, I love it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the locket that Ben bought: https://www.etsy.com/listing/882631517/antique-gold-heart-locket-9ct-gold-back?ref=shop_home_active_25&frs=1
> 
> I just made a twitter for fanfic stuff, so if you want to follow me there, it's @escape_2020_


	10. Let the past die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much just sex in this chapter - enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, y'all, this chapter is about 95% smut, so I hope you like that! I've been having a bit of trouble getting into this story lately, so if you're still enjoying it please let me know. I just added a cap to the chapter count as well, so my guess is another 6 weeks until we reach the end. If you're sad to see this story end, I have a few other WIPs that you can check out on my page.
> 
> Thank you @Yarnforbrains for beta-reading! <3

You were having a very pleasant dream, the first one you’d had in a while. If you were lucid, you might remark at how odd that was, considering you’d slept through only nightmares and dreamless states since arriving in Vermont. But you weren’t lucid, so you leaned into the comforting sensations. You dreamt you were laying in a warm, sunny field, a large maple tree partially shading your spot, its leaves lightly rustling. There was something sweet floating on the breeze, like there was a sugar house nearby, and every inhale made your mouth water. The heat of the sun made your muscles relax into the plush grass and you sighed in contentment. Something pleasurable was making your body tingle, maybe it was the picture-perfect day, but you wriggled a little bit as the feelings traveled down your body. They started at your neck, traveled over your chest, dipped down to your navel, and settled at the apex of your thighs. There, the sensations bloomed, creating a heat that seemed to vibrate with growing intensity. You reached down and felt something silky soft and threaded your fingers through it. That seemed to make the tingling expand as though in response, and you felt the warmth surge inside of you. 

“That’s it, open your legs a little wider for me, baby.” You frowned. The bed of grass under your body morphed into a bed with pillows and blankets. The silky strands between your fingers now felt like...hair? Slowly, sweet dreams were fading into reality. But the electricity humming between your legs remained. You fluttered your eyes open to see your fingers woven through a mop of wavy black hair. You must have stiffened at this realization, because the next second, Ben looked up at you, his lips glistening with your essence, and grinned.

“Good morning, little bunny.” You stared dumbstruck. When you didn’t answer his greeting, he brought a finger up to your clit and began to make gentle circles, all the while keeping eye contact to watch your response. Involuntarily, your hips tilted up to meet his massaging. “Is that good?” It was. You nodded shyly. “That’s my girl. You just looked so beautiful, so  _ delicious _ sleeping next to me, I couldn’t help myself, I couldn’t wait for you to wake up. I had to have a taste.”

With that, Ben leaned back down and licked a wide stripe between your lips, then took your clit into his mouth to suck. You closed your eyes again in bliss and gasped when you felt a finger slide in and curl up. After a few thrusts, he paused to add another finger, providing enough friction and stretch that a moan escaped your mouth. Ben’s tongue was lapping at your clit at the same time, creating a cacophony of lewd, wet sounds. As you pressed your hips up to meet his mouth and fingers, his lips trailed away from your center to pepper kisses and bites over the soft flesh of your inner thighs. He continued to kiss and nibble along the edge of your core and even over the tufts of hair above your opening, but didn’t return to the tiny nub begging for his attention. You opened your eyes and whined in protest. Ben looked up at you, feigning confusion, and stopped moving his fingers, though they remained buried deep inside of you.

“What’s wrong, baby? Is there something you want?” he asked.

You nodded with a pleading look, but that wasn’t enough for him.

“What do you want, baby? Use your words.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes so you were staring at the ceiling. Was he really going to make you say it? “I want you to...keep doing... _ ugh _ , I don’t know!” You gave up out of embarrassment and covered your face with your hands. But Ben wasn’t having any of that. He reached up with his free hand to uncover your face.

“Come now, bunny, tell me what you want me to do.” Very slowly, he started sliding his fingers in and out of you again while he waited for a response.

“I want...your mouth...on me again…” You trailed off at the end, half out of embarrassment, half out of distraction from the torturous way his fingers were moving.

“You want my mouth...here?” He placed a kiss on your hip.

“ _ No _ , you know  _ where _ .”

“Here?” He placed a kiss on the soft, rounded part of your belly at your navel.

“ _ Ben _ , please, put your mouth on my clit, I’m begging you.” You couldn’t take it much longer. A pressure was building between your hips, but you would never find release if he didn’t pay attention to your clit.

“Ah, you should have said so,” he said with a toothy grin, before diving back down and circling his tongue around the nub. At the same time, he started pumping his fingers in earnest and curling them against your front wall. You arched your back and ground your hips down on his hand and face.

“Oh, Ben, right  _ there _ .” He’d hit the perfect rhythm and you could feel your peak building. Just another minute and you’d be able to come. But he slowed to a stop, pulled his fingers out, and sat up. You were going to protest, but when he lowered the waistband of his pants and started stroking his cock with your wetness on his fingers, you just dropped your knees open as wide as you could manage and bit your lip, eyeing his hardness with anticipation. Suddenly, his fingers didn’t seem satisfying anymore. You wanted to feel the fullness that his cock would provide; you wanted to know how deep he could go.

Ben knelt between your legs and rubbed the head of his cock along your opening. He pushed the head in slowly so that he could enjoy the resistance your body provided. Then, millimeter by millimeter, he torturously, deliciously stretched you open. His fingers couldn’t compare to the way his cock filled you, heavier and more insistent with his body lowering down to join with you. He came to a rest with his forearms framing your face and his hips resting against yours, his entire length deeply seated inside of you. He remained still until you started to squirm beneath him, craving friction.

Finally, he started to back out and sink in, seeming to hit a deeper spot each time. He picked up the pace then looked down at you, lust and adoration in his eyes. When he leaned down to press his plush lips to yours, you didn’t stop him. Your “relationship” with Ben was...troubled, but even you couldn’t deny the attraction that you felt to him. When he parted his lips, you opened yours too to let him in. He groaned into your mouth and slipped his tongue in, fucking you harder as he did. Then, abruptly, he pulled away. But just as quickly, he pulled one of your legs that you’d wrapped around the back of his thighs to lay in front of his shoulder. 

“Had to be deeper,” he grunted. With your new position, he leaned back down to continue kissing you, and in the process, driving deeper in you than he’d ever been. You cried out when he bottomed out. Ben took advantage of this, taking your face in one hand, pressing his thumb behind your jaw so that you couldn’t close it. Then, he pressed his middle and ring finger onto your tongue, pulling slightly at your cheek. “Suck,” he murmured.

And you did. In that moment, you wanted to be full of him in as many ways as possible. You suckled, swirling your tongue around his fingers, and closed your eyes. This could be good for you, Ben could be good for you. Drunk on pleasure, you slipped your hand between your bodies and found your clit, slick and sensitive. When Ben saw what you were doing, he moaned and picked up his pace.   


“That’s it, little bunny, just do what feels good, touch yourself for me.”

You rubbed quick little circles over your clit, already teetering on the verge of coming. Glancing up at Ben, you saw that his eyes were closed in bliss, hair draping around his face and sweat beading on his forehead. “So tight...all  _ mine _ ,” he mumbled, almost to himself. His thrusts started to become erratic and he matched the motion with his fingers, fucking your face. He opened his eyes partway to watch the scene below him and clenched his jaw. “You’re all mine, you know that, bunny?” This time he said it directly to you. There was nothing for you to do but nod and say a garbled ‘mhm’ around his fingers. “You’re mine, this pretty little pussy is mine. I’m gonna fill you up with my babies too, and you'll like it, won’t you?” Your eyes went wide but almost to your own surprise, you nodded in response. He smiled at that and leaned down to kiss your forehead, forcing himself deeper in the process. You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking that, at least in that moment, there was nothing more you wanted than to be filled to the brim with his cum, to have his seed take, and to carry his child. He’d already proven that he would take care of you, now all that was left was for you to let go, to let it happen.

Your wandering thoughts were cut short by the pleasure that threatened to send you crashing over the edge into your orgasm. “Ben…” you tried to say with your mouth stuffed.

“Are you gonna come for me, little bunny? Is my sweet, beautiful girl going to come on my cock?” Your eyes rolled back in your head as you nodded quickly. “Good girl, let me feel that tight little cunt coming around my cock.” That was apparently all it took. You came with a blinding intensity, your walls spasming as you thrashed beneath his body. Ben followed right after. You could feel him twitching inside of you as he filled you with his come, fucking it deep into you with every thrust. When you were starting to become oversensitive, you pulled your hand from between your bodies and rested it palm up by your head. Ben, still in the throws of his own orgasm, leaned down to clean your fingers in his mouth, sending a shudder through your body. 

At last, both of you stilled, but remained tangled up with each other as you caught your breath. When Ben began to soften, he pulled out of you and stacked two pillows under your hips. This time, you accepted it. The thought of his cum slipping back into your womb was sort of exciting. In your post-orgasm haze, the thought of a tiny dark-haired baby made you swoon instead of cringe, so you decided to keep your hips propped up for as long as Ben wanted.

After a lingering kiss from a contented Ben, he left to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Fifteen minutes later, he returned and allowed you to remove the pillows. A flood of cum spilled out, so you gathered as much of it as you could and shoved it back in with your fingers, much to Ben’s delight, before getting up to put a robe on and follow him to the kitchen. He had set the table for two with plates of eggs, Canadian bacon, toast, sliced oranges, and coffee. He pulled out a seat for you then took the one opposite and opened up the daily paper. It was pleasant, normal. You happily dug in, and of course, everything was perfect. Ben was a good cook, that was one thing you loved about him. You’d never really found the time to learn how to cook, usually heating up microwave meals or pulling together pasta with canned sauce, back in your old life. You were eating much better now that you were with Ben and knew it was because he wanted you and your future baby to be healthy. That wasn’t such a bad thing, now that you really considered it.

You looked up at Ben as you took a sip of coffee, admiring his features that you might one day pass on to a child. Your eyes drifted down to the newspaper. The front page news was about some local election that you couldn’t care less about. But on the back page, a fuzzy, black and white image caught your eye. It looked a lot like a picture of...you? You squinted and, yes, it looked like a selfie from college that had been your Facebook profile picture. Ben noticed you staring at the paper with a confused, almost frustrated look on your face, and lowered it.

“What’s wrong, bunny?” He looked concerned, and when you reached out for the paper, a wild look in your eyes, he grabbed your wrist to stop you. “Hey -- tell me what’s wrong.”

“I need to see that newspaper, Ben. I think there’s a picture of me on it.” You tried to pull out of his grasp, but he was much stronger than you. He used his free hand to flip the paper over and look at the side you had seen, tilting it off the table so you couldn’t look at the same time. His face was blank, but he got up and swiftly walked across the room to the wood stove. He opened the door where he would feed in wood and tossed the paper on top of the low fire. Closing the door, he walked back over to the table where you sat speechless and picked up his fork to continue eating.

“What the fuck, Ben? I swear that was a picture of me!” 

“It wasn’t you,” he said after a sip of coffee.

“Well then why didn’t you just let me take a look?”

“It was upsetting you.” The softness that had been in his face earlier when the two of you were in bed was gone now, replaced with an icy neutrality.

“What if someone is looking for me, Ben?” The pitch of your voice rose as you started to panic. You weren’t sure how long it had been since you’d left home, or how long it had been since Rose had expected you in Canada, but it had to be weeks at the very least. Were people looking for you? Had you been reported missing?

Ben fixed you with a hard stare and put his fork down so that he could take hold of your hands across the table. “My sweet, sweet bunny,  _ no one _ is looking for you.” His thumbs rubbed soft circles over the backs of your hands.

Tears welled in your eyes. “But...what if they are? What if people are worried about me?” Your voice was beginning to quaver.

Ben’s face looked pained when he next spoke. “Bunny, if anyone was looking for you, don’t you think they would have come already?”

You stared back, uncertain how to answer.

“Have we had any visits from the police?”

You shook your head, the corners of your lips quivering downwards as you continued to fight off tears.

“Have you been seen in public by many people? On multiple occasions?”

You nodded, tears blurring your vision and hanging dangerously close to spilling over onto your cheeks.

“No one is coming for you,” he repeated, “it’s just you and me.” He smiled almost apologetically. “But that’s alright.  _ I _ am here for you, I will  _ always _ be here for you.  _ I  _ am all you need. Do you understand?” You hesitated but slowly nodded. He was right. The only reason that no one had come for you was because they had never looked in the first place. No one even noticed that you were gone. At least with Ben, you were his main concern. Everything he did, he did to make you feel comfortable and loved. Who else could you say had done that in your life? You tried to think, but stuck in your anxious, spiralling thoughts, you were drawing a blank.

“I love you, Ben,” you said. You were pretty sure you believed it too. Saying it was the first step towards truly letting your past die. The world wasn’t what it used to be, but maybe with Ben by your side, that was alright. He smiled and stood, leaning across the table to kiss the top of your head. 

“I love you too, bunny. And I will love our little one even more fiercely.”

You smiled a genuine smile. He was right. Ben loved you better than anyone ever had or ever could. It only made sense to start a life with him. The world was a tumultuous place these days, but at least with Ben, you had a little safe haven. You could raise a family and be  _ happy _ . You tried to remember if you’d ever been happy before, but memories of your past were all swirling in uncertainty with these new revelations. Maybe your past didn’t matter at all anymore. Maybe moving to Canada would have made things harder, more complicated. Now, things were simple, and you had Ben to thank for that. What a happy accident that you’d met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: escape_2020_


	11. House Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Yarnforbrains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/search?utf8=%E2%9C%93&work_search%5Bquery%5D=yarnforbrains) for beta-reading! <3

The next several weeks passed in what you could only describe as domestic bliss. Every morning when you woke up, Ben was right there beside you, ready to make you cum and make you coffee before the sun had finished rising. He indulged your every wish, taking you out shopping for whatever you wanted, introducing you to the local women’s group so that you could make some friends during book clubs and knitting circles, and he even said he might get you a kitten if you stayed on your best behavior. The only thing he wouldn’t let you do was get a job. He said you didn’t need to trouble yourself when he had plenty of money for the both of you. Sometimes you were bored or lonely and wished for a greater purpose, like meaningful work, but Ben always knew what was best for you; you trusted him with your whole being. 

With the passing weeks, the weather started to warm ever so slightly, hints of spring peeking through the harsh winter days. You’d never spent much time in Vermont before, but spring must be beautiful with all of the new life replacing the months of frigid tundra. You were looking out the window one morning pondering the changing seasons when a lone robin landed in the snowy yard.

“ _ Oh! _ Ben, come here!” You squealed your excitement at Ben, who was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. He’d told you to stay put with the pillows propped under your hips like usual, but you’d gotten restless and crawled over to the window above the headboard, doing your best to keep your legs together in the process.

You heard Ben’s voice coming from down the hallway before you saw him. “What is it, bunny, is everything alright?” There was concern straining his voice. When he came in the room and saw you kneeling in front of the window, he let out a disappointed sigh.

“Did I say it was time to get up, bunny?” You turned around to see his arms crossed across his chest and a disapproving look on his face. In turn, you gave him your best puppy dog eyes.

“But look, there’s a  _ robin _ on the lawn! And I kept my knees together, nothing got out — I  _ swear _ .” Ben looked at you sternly for another couple seconds before breaking into a grin and coming to the side of the bed.

“Okay, little bunny, show me the robin.” He brought his hands around your waist while you scanned the lawn for the little bird. His fingers crept up beneath your breasts, only covered by a thin chemise, until he was holding one in each hand, squeezing and rolling your nipples between thumb and forefingers.

“ _ Ah!  _ Ben, that  _ hurts _ ,” you pouted. 

“What, this?” He squeezed again, his hands fully engulfing your breasts.

“Yes — cut it out!” Robin forgotten, you shimmied out of his embrace and held your tender breasts, guarding them from Ben’s big, rough hands. He watched you, jaw shifting ever so slightly, but he didn’t say anything. He leaned forward to kiss your forehead, ignoring the way you flinched, then returned to the kitchen to continue preparing breakfast.

A few days later, Ben woke you with his hands between your legs, cupping your sex and gently grinding the heel of his palm against your clit — a variation on his usual wake-up call. But this time, your wakefulness came not with arousal, but with violent nausea. Your eyes flew open and you tried to shove away from Ben so that you could run to the bathroom, but he thought you were playing a game and wrapped his other arm around your middle. You continued to squirm and struggle, bile rising in your throat, until you’d positioned your face to hang over the side of the bed. It was impossible to speak, for fear of vomiting instead. But one more squeeze around your stomach from Ben and you were emptying your stomach onto the hardwood floor anyway.

Ben immediately jumped up to get towels, Clorox, and a glass of water. He returned to your side to clean up the mess and offer you a drink. 

“Bunny, I’m so sorry, I thought you were playing.” Sometimes Ben liked to play a game where you tried to run away during sex, but he always caught you, pinned you, and came inside you in the end. You weren’t very fond of this game, but it made him happy, and that was enough for you.

“Are you sick? Do you want me to call the doctor?” He stroked your hair, concern written across his face.

“Actually, I feel much better now. You don’t need to call the doctor; I must have just eaten something funny yesterday.” You wiped the corner of your mouth and escaped Ben’s skeptical stare by running to the bathroom to brush your teeth. 

“I’m calling the doctor,” he called from the bedroom. You rolled your eyes — if that would ease his mind, then so be it.

Later that afternoon, a knock came at the front door, and Ben let in an older man with white hair and a stethoscope around his neck. 

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Dr. Grievous,” Ben said, shaking the man’s hand.

“Of course, Ben. Now, where’s the little lady?” 

You were eavesdropping down the hall and avoiding the house call. You weren’t exactly scared of doctors, but this Dr. Grievous was a stranger, and you were afraid for what he might find during his exam. There wasn’t much time to ponder your predicament though, as Ben came down the hallway to find you a moment later.

“The nice doctor is here to see you, bunny. Let’s go say hi to him.” Reluctantly, you followed him into the main living area.

“Hi there,” he said to you, using a tone you imagined he used only with children. “Your husband says you’ve been feeling a little under the weather, so I’m here to get to the bottom of that. Why don’t you have a seat on the couch, and I’ll start by taking your vitals.”

Ben guided you with a hand on the small of your back, then took a seat on the cushion next to you. “Don’t worry, little bunny,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. You just nodded and let the doctor get to work — it’s not like you had much of a choice.

He started by taking your blood pressure, checking your pulse, listening to your heart, and taking your temperature. He didn’t give you any indication whether or not the readings were normal.

“How long have you been feeling like this?” he asked, looking at you momentarily, then shifting his gaze to Ben.

“Uh, I only threw up this morning, but honestly, I feel fine now.” Dr. Grievous looked at Ben skeptically.

“She’s been a little off for a few weeks now, a little sore and sluggish,” Ben supplied.

Before you could clarify Ben’s answer, the doctor was already asking you another question. “And when was your last menstrual cycle?” 

You furrowed your brow. Surely, he couldn’t mean what he was alluding to. “My last cycle was about four weeks ago, I’m due in the next couple of days. I probably just feel unwell because my period is about to start.” Dr. Grievous didn’t look convinced.

“That’s all very well, but I’m going to take some blood, just to make sure everything is as it should be.” Without further conversation, he pulled out a syringe and two vials to draw blood. 

“Looks like my work here is done. Ben, I’ll call you with the results tomorrow.” The two men stood and shook hands again, and Ben walked Dr. Grievous to the door. They conversed for a moment at low volume across the room, and then the doctor was gone.

“What kind of tests is he going to run?” you asked Ben when you were alone again. It was a little bit irritating that you had to go through your husband to learn about your own health, but Ben always had your best interest in mind, so you tamped down your frustrations.

“You know doctors, they’re just doing the routine procedures to make sure you’re healthy. I’m sure everything will be alright little bunny.” You were still a little bit disgruntled but didn’t want to press the issue.

“You did so well though, I think you deserve a treat.” Immediately, you face brightened and you forgot all about your irritation.

“ _ Oh! _ What’s my present?”

“Stay here and I’ll be right back.” Ben disappeared into the bedroom for a minute while you bounced on the balls of your feet in anticipation. When he returned, he held one hand behind his back.

“For being such a good girl today, and being on your best behavior with the doctor, I got you—” he brought his hand around in front of him to reveal…

“An iphone! Ben, is this the one that just came out?” You snatched it out of his hand and pulled the lid off of the little rectangular box.

“Only the best for you,” he said with a smile. “I set it up for you too. There’s a few games on there and I added myself as your emergency contact.” You grinned and threw your arms around him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

That evening, you were glued to your phone. Who knew the joys of playing Candy Crush after so long without a phone? As it turned out, Ben had done a little more than set up your phone. He had put a few child locks on the apps; you were prevented from loading various websites, and you were locked out of using the phone at all after 10:00pm to reduce your screen time. Even still, it was amazing to be a little bit connected to the world again.

The next morning during breakfast, the landline rang. Ben jumped up from his seat at the table to answer. It was an old, wall-mounted phone with a long, coiled cord, so Ben walked into the next room with it. You could hear the low rumbling of his voice, but you couldn’t make out any of the words he was saying. It had to be the doctor; suddenly, you weren’t hungry anymore. 

Ben came back into the kitchen to hang up the phone a few minutes later. Silently, he walked over to you, turned your chair so it faced away from the table, and knelt on one knee in front of you. He took both of your hands in his and rubbed soft circles over your knuckles while he formulated his words. At last, he looked up into your eyes and spoke.

“We’re pregnant.” His face broke out into a wide smile while you processed the news. It didn’t make sense for you to be confused, but your brain was still slow to accept this information. Ben’s smile was starting to fade into concern though, so you quickly gathered yourself.

“Oh, Ben, I’m so happy.” And after saying those words, you realized you were. Ben was going to be an amazing father. He’d cared for you from the moment you’d first met, and now he would care for your child too. 

Ben’s smile widened again, and then he hugged you around the middle, burying his face in your lap as he murmured ‘I love you’ over and over again.

Later that night, before your phone locked you out, you remembered to add a new contact to the address book. You knew your cousin Rose’s number by heart, as you had always been very close. You starred her name so that it would appear in your ‘favorites’ list, right under Ben’s number. You had to call her in the morning to share the wonderful news. She was going to be so happy for you. Maybe she could even visit from Canada before the baby came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt that Ben was the type to say "we're pregnant" instead of "you're pregnant", so I hope that makes you cringe as much as it makes me cringe.
> 
> Follow me on Twitter! @escape_2020_


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